


Spur of the Moment

by ModernDayWeeaboo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Awkward Boners, Awkward Flirting, Blow Jobs, Bottom Harry, Boy-Who-Lived Neville Longbottom, Denial, Explicit Language, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Glory Hole, Hand Jobs, Healer Harry, Hogwarts Fifth Year, Hogwarts First Year, Hogwarts Fourth Year, Hogwarts Second Year, Hogwarts Seventh Year, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Hogwarts Third Year, Homophobia, Hufflepuff Harry, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, One-Sided Attraction, One-Sided Relationship, Public Masturbation, Public Sex, Threesome - M/M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-06-01 00:58:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 45,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6494581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ModernDayWeeaboo/pseuds/ModernDayWeeaboo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Potter isn’t a name that’s widely famous like Neville Longbottom, the Boy-Who-Lived, nor is it a name that people tend to remember unless you’re friends with said boy. Instead, said boy spends his time with his small group of friends and creating mayhem at his school. All this was before he attended the luxurious and prestige school known as Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizard. He has no desire to chase after Stones and books that can possess you, no, he just wants to make friends, get decent grades, and make his mum proud.</p><p>(The summary for this story may change in the future as this will be a long story and I’m sure a few plot points will change along the way.)</p><p>Warning: a lot (all) of the sex scenes are underage! For the sake of us all, I’m saying this now! Everything sexual is consensual both ways. I’ll never write rape/forced sex acts. :/ If this upsets you or makes you feel bad (underage sex), please give this story a pass. Despite this, there's a massive plot in the mix.</p><p>Update (08/12/2016): This story isn't abandoned. I lost all the plot points and information for it. I'm going to be rewriting it completely soon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Different Interpretation

**Author's Note:**

> I have no beta. There will be a few minor grammar/spelling mistakes, but nothing too bad. Feel free to spot them and post in the comments and I’ll fix ‘em right up!
> 
> Also, the first few chapters will be revised in the future. The second and fourth will be redone completely. Enjoy!
> 
> If you can guess who the threesome will be between, then you deserve some praise.
> 
> Another new line... sigh. Anyway, I saw the 'Awkward Boners' tag and laughed for twenty minutes as that is almost every single one of them at the young age of 12 - 17.

** Spur of the Moment **

By ModernDayWeeaboo

Chapter One: **A Different Interpretation**

***

Lily sat on the sofa in her home in Godric’s Hollow, her son playing happily on the floor and throwing around a toy block. It was a usual day, nothing exciting would happen and she knew it, as did her husband, James, who was sitting in the kitchen with Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. It made her less restless knowing that her friends were lingering around to help with the ever growing threat of the Death Eaters and the fact that You-Know-Who had targeted her family for some unknown reason, especially when not even a year ago he had sought them out to join his ranks, not that she would ever tell James that, as the man didn’t know.

She glanced downwards at her son, who had just tripped over his feet, and shook her head, so much like James that it was really almost causing her to apologize in advance to the masses of the next generation. One James was enough for at least four generations of Potters, she was sure of that.

“Mum, mum, mum!”

“Yes dear?” Lily said, looking at her son who was using his very first word and adding random nonsense to it. “Are you hungry?”

“Mum!”

Lily rolled her eyes, at just over a year old he was already starting to speak, which according to her parents, was phenomenal, as most kids didn’t speak until they were at least two or going on that. James had simply torn down all hope that her son was a genius and claimed that magical children tended to speak a little earlier, and by earlier a few months, not that much earlier. It made sense, Harry was exactly one year and three months old today, fifteen months and he had only just started talking recently and it was always mum.

“There’s my little man,” James said, picking up Harry, having just ran from the kitchen. “Look at you, almost walking by yourself!”

Lily just rolled her eyes and picked up a nearby Charms book, wondering if she would learn anything new, seeing as this one was fairly new. She watched as James and Harry interacted, of course it was one-sided as Harry clearly had no idea what was going on and he just watched his dad with curious eyes.

“Say dad,” James said, repeating the phrase again and again. “Go on, Harry.”

“Mum, mum… mum!”

“I heard dad,” James said, his face become one that morphed into a proud expression and he smiled at his son. “Didn’t you, Lils?”

“I did,” Lily said, waving her husband off, the book was far more interesting than his rambling and claims that his son had said dad and not mum. It was clear who Harry preferred. “Perhaps now that he has said it, you can retreat back into the kitchen and leave us be for a while.”

The peace and quiet lasted two hours, until the three grown men in the house moaned about being hungry and Lily gave up and finally got up and cooked dinner. Of course, her son came first and he was tucked into his chair at the table and given a bottle that should last him a few hours or until he tossed it aside.

“So,” Sirius said, dragging out the word as long as possible. “What’s for dinner, Lils?”

“For you?” Lily said, smirking. “Nothing.”

“Wow,” Sirius muttered, looking rather put out. “After all I have done for you and James?”

“You’ve done nothing for us.”

“Quiet, James,” Lily said, putting enough plates on the table for them all. “If you keep it up, it’ll be you who gets nothing.”

The two grown men, three if you counted Remus, sat quietly after that admission and patiently waited for their food, which of course took a while as Lily intentionally cooked slowly and made sure that they each had to wait for such a long period of time, except for Remus, who got his first.

“Why does Remus get his first?” Sirius whined, looking rather put out.

Lily sighed. “Because Remus actually acts like an adult,” she said, glaring at Sirius. “Unlike you two!”

James and Sirius wisely shut up, not wanting to deal with an angry Lily, who was almost as stern as McGonagall when she was upset or agitated. They thanked her when the food was easily tucked onto their plates and ate in silence, not even whispering as they feared their lives when Lily glared at them.

“You’ll do the dishes tonight,” Lily said as she pulled Harry from the chair he was sitting in. “No magic, do them by hand and don’t be slack and wait until nearly ten at night before you do them.”

“Do I have to?” James said, scowling at the sink which contained ample amounts of dishes in them. “I can just simply flick my wand and all done.”

“I suppose that’s how we’ll teach Harry, too,” Lily said, her eyes narrowed. “Just flick your wand and all done.”

“Lily,” James started but was promptly silenced by his wife.

“Let’s just not teach him any life skills at all, just _wave your wand_ ,” Lily repeated, in the same tone that James had said it in. “Oh, I’m sorry, you said to flick your wand, not wave, how silly of me!”

“That’s not what I meant,” James said, leaning backwards on the chair. “You know that we’ll teach hi mall kinds of things, both magical and Muggle, but you must understand that I am lazy, Lils, very, very lazy.”

“Just flick your wand and cure it!”

Remus watched in amusement as Lily strode from the room with her son on her hip. “You deserved that,” he said with one of his tired smiles. “Sirius pushed her at dinner and then you pushed her afterwards. Let’s just hope that Harry doesn’t inherit her attitude or I’ll actually feel sorry for you when he’s a teenager.”

James mumbled and picked up the plates from the table and moved them into the sink. “I’ll do them soon,” he said, ignoring the look from Remus. “In an hour… or two.”

“You’re pushing your luck, James,” Remus muttered and stood from the chair, intent on getting out of the room and into a place that he would be out of range of the incoming fight that would most likely happen any moment now. He was, in a sense, stuck between whether or not he should defend James or if he should defend Lily. In the end, it seemed like the better choice to just ignore them both and act as if he heard nothing.

That was the plan anyway.

* * *

Remus and Sirius had left at three minutes until ten o’clock and not a moment later, they quickly fled the moment Lily came back into the kitchen and saw that the dishes still weren’t done. James had expected the roof to be blown off with an argument, but he guessed that Harry was asleep and his wife didn’t want to wake him as she just glared and made a move towards the sink.

“Lily, stop,” James said, cursing his Gryffindor brashness. It did the trick, however. “I didn’t do the dishes because I wanted to do them together.”

“What?”

“You know,” James said, moving closer. “Like we used to, when we were just out of Hogwarts. You would wash them I would dry them and pack them away.”

“You mean it?” Lily said with some confusion in her tone, but nothing major. “I somehow doubt that you’d think that up and then propose it to me.”

“What can I say,” James said, smirking. “I’m a romantic.”

“No you’re not,” Lily said, her hands found their way onto her hips. “How did you propose to me, James?”

“I don’t know,” James said and then instantly winced. “I mean, I proposed the traditional way, I got down on one knee and asked you to marry me.”

“Hopeless,” Lily said. “You’re far from a romantic, James, and you’re lucky that that I enjoy that. I’ve never been one for that lovey-dovey thing.”

“Oh yeah,” James said, holding the laugh. “Your sister was the type that fell head-over-heels for that, wasn’t she?”

“Yes,” Lily said stiffly, her eyes narrowed. “She married Vernon because he sent her copious amounts of flowers.”

“And vases.”

“And vases,” Lily repeated.

“You know, Lils, Harry broke one of the vases she sent us,” James admitted and looked away, hiding his smile. “When he rid his broom three months ago.”

“I still cannot believe you gave a one year old baby a broom,” Lily said. “How irresponsible.”

“It could only go a meter of the ground,” James said and quickly thought of more excuses when his wife glared at him. “And the floor was charmed with a Cushioning Charm, so if he did fall, which wasn’t likely, it’d be a soft landing.”

“I have _no_ idea how they even let you become an Auror.”

“I can be charming,” James said. “I simply flattered the instructors.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me, to be honest.”

“What was that?” James asked, looking at his wife with a stiff smile.

“It was nothing,” Lily said. “Dear.”

* * *

Lily sat with her husband in the sitting room and glanced at the fire, they each had different books open and were more interested in that than each other. They had a few quiet conversations and often debated just tossing aside the books and just talking as they used to do commonly after they left Hogwarts.

They were aware that it was Hallowe’en and frequently glanced out the curtained window and looked at the kids dressed up in odd costumes and walking around the neighbourhood. A small boy in a mummy costume glanced directly at them and shook his head, heading towards the house next door.

“Probably confused on why there’s an empty lot with a for sale sign with no contact details in the middle of one of the largest lots in the neighbourhood,” James said, following the small boy with his eyes. “Not to mention all the wards and charms around the yard, he would have sensed something, even if he was a Muggle, he did get pretty close.”

“What would happen if a Muggle walked across the wards?” Lily asked, panic in her voice.

“It’d just nudge them back on the pathway,” James said earnestly. “Not that they could get in as they’d have to walk through the gate, and climbing over the actual fence is impossible, even for the most athletic Muggles, they’d constantly slip.”

“Good, good,” Lily said.

“Are you alright, Lily?” James asked curiously, his eyes going back out the window. “You don’t seem yourself all of a sudden.”

“I’m fine,” Lily said stiffly, her eyes betrayed that motion though. “Fine!” she huffed, glancing at the fireplace. “I’m worried, alright, Dumbledore said that we should start being careful.”

“Lily,” James said as he wrapped his hand across her chin. “You-Know-Who cannot access the property, even if Peter told him where we are, the only thing he can do is sit on the sidewalk and scowl at us.”

“I thought that Dumbledore said –”

“He did,” James said, interrupting his wife. “He said that it’s not wise that I do what I did and that I broke countless laws by doing it, I have no regrets.”

“What did you do, James?” Lily asked, her eyes filling with concern.

“I created a blood ward, Frank helped me, to protect us against You-Know-Who.”

“Frank helped you?” Lily said, standing up. “That’s crazy – wait, how did you get You-Know-Who’s blood?”

“Severus Snape,” James said, frowning. “You-Know-Who was injured at the hands of Dumbledore recently and asked Snape to tend to his wounds.”

“He didn’t!”

“He did, and he saved us, Lily.”

Lily sighed and stood up, pacing the floor. “He’ll know instantly that something is up when he cannot actually get on the property, he could have already been and realized and now he’s plotting to blast our house to pieces.”

“He can’t!”

“Forgive me for never studying Blood Magic, James,” Lily snapped, looking extremely put out. “It’s worse than the Unforgivable Curses.”

“I know that,” James said, looking highly agitated. “I know that.”

“Do you?” Lily said angrily. “I lied, alright!”

“What?”

“I lied,” Lily repeated. “I studied it in my seventh year, Dumbledore actually assisted me.”

“And you must know that this is a good thing, right?”

Lily sighed and sat back down, her face blank. “It’s not, James. Dabbling in Blood Magic in a very serious thing because it can backfire so easily.”

“No one ever said that!”

“Because no one is stupid enough to touch spells or rituals regarding blood unless they’re desperate!”

A tense silent filled the room as the couple stared at each other, not speaking and their breaths soft and not making any noise. A noise pulled their attention outside and they shifted towards the window to look at what was happening.

“Merlin, it’s Bellatrix!” James whispered, holding his wand. “What do you think she’s doing here?”

“Seeing as her master couldn’t get in, he most likely told her to come and retrieve Harry for him.”

“Well,” James said, shifting around, his Auror training taking over instantly. “She can try, but she won’t get anywhere near Harry.”

“Don’t underestimate her,” Lily warned. “She has no grasp on morals and will do anything to make you submit. If she has me and chooses me over Harry, save Harry, no matter what.”

“Lily…”

“No, James,” Lily said. “She’s ruthless and would kill me regardless, if you can save Harry, do it.”

“Come out ickle Potters,” a voice shouted across the yard. “I wouldn’t want to hurt any of you, we can play nice!”

James darted up and opened the door. “Bellatrix!”

“Potter, come out and play,” Bellatrix taunted, the maniac glint in her eyes vanished and was replaced by a certain softness that no one would fall for. “The Dark Lord has an appointment with the Longbottom family and sent me along to keep you preoccupied.”

“Merlin,” Lily breathed, feeling sorry for Alice and Frank. “They didn’t take as much protections as we did.”

“Doesn’t annoy you that you’re practically his servant?” James threw back, ignoring the comment about Frank, Alice and Neville. “He doesn’t even care for you, else he wouldn’t have sent you here, obviously to be captured while he does whatever he wishes. You’re replaceable.”

Bellatrix tilted her head. “I have seen the light!” she shouted, grinning at Potter. “You have convinced me that I am on the wrong path and that I should repent my ways.”

“Someone had to –”

“My Lord,” Bellatrix said, bowing. “I shall now follow you, My Lord.”

James spluttered on his words as he glanced a Bellatrix. “What are you on about?”

Bellatrix gave a demented laugh, it echoed across the yard and towards the house. Her insane cackling was worse than the Dark Lord’s, in some retrospect. “Blood magic, naughty, naughty, ickle Potter. What have you done?”

“I haven’t used any Blood Magic!” James said instantly.

“Of course not,” Bellatrix said in a high-pitched tone of voice. “Because the fact that I can see them practically protests your innocence, My Lord.”

“I’m not your lord,” James all but hissed. “You’re insane, no one will believe you.”

“Of course,” Bellatrix said, bowing. “I understand the need for secrecy, after all, a wizard with your talents to create such diverse blood wards must require discretion.”

“Would you go elsewhere?” James snapped, glaring out the window, only just narrowly dodging the dark red spell that was sent his way. “Stupefy!”

A quick one on one duel started, multiple coloured spells flinging back and forth while Lily diving inside and focused on protecting her son, who was sleeping peacefully, unaware that some crazy witch was outside trying to massacre them. She began a mantra in her head that James was an Auror and therefore trained better than Bellatrix and that it was only a matter of time before she slipped and James could apprehend her.

Bellatrix gave out a scream that could have belonged to a banshee and unloaded a whole bunch of curses without any delay between casting each spell. Some were nonverbal and others were done with no wand movement. “That was good, Potter,” she said, her eyes almost sparking with glee. “You almost got me.”

“Just turn yourself in,” James shouted, panting. “I’m sure you’d only get life in Azkaban, at least you’d live.”

“Of course, My Lord,” Bellatrix muttered. “If my Lord commands it, so be it!”

James barely managed to block the Cutting Hex that was aimed at his throat. A small part of the spell managed to cut through and drew blood, but nothing fatal.

“What’s wrong, My Lord?” Bellatrix taunted. “Did you get hurt? Let Bellatrix make it better.”

“You’re insane,” James muttered the moment the woman started making kissing faces at him. “Doesn’t your master give you enough attention? Must be too focused on his other followers?”

Bellatrix cackled, which was her standard response to anything that could be seen as a retort. “You’re my master and I guess you’re right, you spend far too much time with that Mudblood bitch inside.”

The issue with Bellatrix was while you got more annoyed, she thrived from your anger and relentless assaults and turned it into morale for herself. She was just behind the Dark Lord on the ‘do not approach’ list, as she was insane, but a brilliant witch, almost as brilliant as Lily, just used her power for the wrong reasons. It was known that the woman took sadistic glee in her torturing, not just physical either, mental. It made her worse than the Dark Lord.

James’ response was natural, throw a fit of curses at the woman and pray to Merlin that one would hit, but like everyone before the tactic hardly worked because Bellatrix was just as good at defensive duelling as she was at aggressive duelling. Naturally, he was hardly a pushover and when he put his mind to something, it usually got done.

He smiled in triumph when he saw one of his spells hit Bellatrix and fling her across the grass and into the small stone fence. Of course the woman didn’t stay down for long and played it off as if she allowed it to happen.

“Very good,” Bellatrix said smoothly, her tone almost seducing. “ _Very_ good.”

“Be quiet!” James snapped. “The Ministry is on the way. You’ve lost, Bellatrix.”

Bellatrix was about to retort when a sudden pain flared in her left forearm, she grasped it with her right arm and screamed, knowing what it meant. “No, no, no!” she repeated, hoping it wasn’t true. She glanced around and saw the blood wards of the property flicker, no longer holding as strong as they did due to the threat perishing. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?”

“You chose the wrong side, Bellatrix,” James said, unaware what she was screaming about. “Your talent is beyond even Dumbledore, you could have done yourself something great instead of being a simple servant.”

“YOU PLANNED THIS,” Bellatrix screamed, a highly broken scream. “YOU – YOU’LL REGRET THIS!”

James slumped against the doorframe, the cut on his neck pulsating rapidly, but he paid it no mind and watched as Bellatrix spun on heal and vanished with a loud crack. He had no idea what made her flip out, she had been hit plenty of times in a duel, she seemed to thrive on it and let the enemy hit her.

“Merlin,” Lily said, dabbing her husband’s neck with a warm cloth. “I leave for a few minutes to make sure Harry’s alright and you end up wounded.”

“Bellatrix – Bellatrix fled,” James muttered, his hand clasping his wife’s hand. “We did it.”

“Stop moving,” Lily said, holding the cloth firmly in place. “Expecto Patronum!”

The doe stopped and assessed the damage before it turned and galloped off towards Hogwarts, most likely towards Albus Dumbledore.

“How bad is it?”

“Well the lawn is torn up,” Lily said, glancing around the yard. “And I’ll need to replant the roses, but aside from that pretty good.”

James laughed, despite the pain that it caused him. “Are you sure you don’t want to be a Marauder, Lily?”

“I’m sure, James,” Lily said, smiling. “I’ll leave that to Harry, I reckon.”

“You reckon?” James repeated, his voice lifted as he spoke. “What does that mean? I have never heard you use that word before.”

“Be quiet, James,” Lily said softly. The distant wailing of her son was heard in the distance. “Now look what you’ve done.”

“What I’ve done?”

“Yes, you,” Lily said, her lips pursed. “Now get up and get on the couch – don’t get blood on it!”

Whatever retort James was going to use was cut off by the throbbing pain that laced through his body. He cursed softly under his breath, cursing Bellatrix and every other Death Eater that he ever had the misfortune on meeting. He wondered how You-Know-Who was defeated and that questioned remained in his mind until he remembered that Bellatrix, even in her insane taunting, had said something about the Longbottom family. His heart went out towards all three of them, four if you count Augusta, and prayed to Merlin that they were alright.

“Mum,” Harry babbled as he was carried in the room.

“Yes, Harry, I’m mum,” Lily said, placing her son on the floor. “The crashing of the spells must have woken him up.”

Harry repeated his most used word, and only known word, multiple times, often combining it enough where it sounded as he was saying one long word.

James rolled his eyes. “I could be dying and Harry would still say ‘mum’,” he muttered somewhat sadly. “My own son!”

“Get over yourself,” Lily said. “It was me who birthed him and it was me –”

“Oh, Lils,” James said, laughing, ignoring the pain. “You know I’m playing. He’s saving the better parent for last.”

Lily pursed her lips and pushed a strand of dark red her from her face. “How you can be so calm when you were just hit with a Cutting Hex is beyond me! So reckless!”

“You love me,” James muttered happily. “Just as I love you.”

“Of course,” Lily said, hearing distant pops of apparation, which she instantly tensed at. “Stay there, James and protect Harry.”

James caught his wand and sat up, ignoring the throb of pain and surged through his neck, and silently summoned the top his son was wearing, which caused said boy to come along with it, cheering happily and clapping as he did so. “Shh,” he said softly, placing a finger over his lips.

Lily stood on the front porch, or what was left of it and smiled fondly at the Ministry officials that entered her yard. “I’m sorry, but I’ll need you to display your left forearms,” she said, holding her wand firmly. “There has been an uproar and we have recently been attacked. I’ll take no chances.”

“Understandable,” said the aged man to the far right and revealed blank forearm, he didn’t say anything for twenty seconds, but he did lick his lips and then clasp his hands together. “I applaud you, Mrs. Potter, not many would think about such a thing, even if it has been rumoured that You-Know-Who has been slain.”

“This is the first I’m hearing about it,” Lily said, looking confused. “He was defeated?”

“Yes, just very recently,” the woman next to the man said, taking a step forwards.

“Your arm,” Lily said, her eyes narrowed. “So far only one have shown their arms.”

The woman showed her arm, as did the other people with her.

Lily nodded happy and tucked away her wand. “Once again, I apologize,” she started and the man on the far right held up his hand.

“Mrs. Potter, as I said before, I applaud the fact that you have the intelligence to check that, regardless, is your husband home?”

“Yes,” Lily said tersely, not liking where this was going, the slightly aggressive tone in the man’s voice had her swallowing every second that she wasn’t talking. “He’s with our son, in the sitting room. He was just hit with a Cutting Hex, curtesy of Bellatrix Lestrange.”

“Oh my,” said the woman.

“He’s fine,” Lily said, taking the panic in the woman’s tone the wrong way. “He’ll be patched up in no less than five minutes.”

“I’m more concerned about your son.”

“Excuse me?” Lily said, taking a step in the house. “My son is perfectly fine, as is my husband.”

“We’ll see about that,” the woman said, stepping into the house.

Lily muttered under her breath and closed the door. “James,” she said loudly. “These lovely people are here to see you.”

“Are they?” James said, placing his son on the ground softly, ignoring the fact that the people in the room treated that action as a relief. “What can I help you with?”

“You can start by handing over your wand.”

“What?” Lily screeched, walking towards them. “You cannot come into our home and demand he hand over his wand!”

“I can, as the request is on the Minister of Magic himself,” the man replied, ignoring the woman. “James Potter, you’re under arrest.”


	2. The Trial of James Potter

** Spur of the Moment **

By ModernDayWeeaboo

Chapter Two: **The Trial of James Potter**

***

Lily watched helplessly as her husband and father to her son was pretty much dragged away from the Aurors, his wand lay forgotten the wooden floor of their house. She quickly picked that up and tucked it near her wand, making sure was safe and wouldn’t be snapped. She knew far too well how the Ministry acted, especially on stupid cases like this.

She held a strong front for a while, until the door closed and then gasped and collapsed on the sofa, her son staring at her with a confused expression. She covered her mouth with her hands, hoping to stifle any sobs that may have come out and shook off her fingers whenever tears slowly rolled over them.

“No, no,” she said standing from the sofa, wiping her eyes. “I cannot just sit here and cry, there’s much to do.”

Harry made small cheerful noised as he watched his mum dash around the room, waving her wand and bits of magic flicking out and repairing anything that was broken.

Lily forced her way around the room, pieces of glances repaired themselves, the stones flicked back into their positions and the house soon enough looked calm and warming as it did not even an hour ago. She relit the hearth of the fire and cast a quick spell over it so that Harry wouldn’t wander into the fireplace and burn himself.

“Oh Lily,” Molly said, rushing into the room, startling her friend. “I only just heard!”

“I didn’t hear you come in, Molly,” Lily said, holding her wand tightly. “I’ve been cleaning up any mess from the fight that happened.”

“Arthur got an owl from the Ministry, not even fifteen minutes ago, stating that he had to attend a Wizengamot trial tomorrow.”

“Did they saw who for? I imagine they have many trials going on now.”

“Yes,” Molly said tersely. “Your husband, James Potter.”

“I thought as much,” Lily said, sighing. “I never got one, so I assume I’m being kept out of it.”

It did hurt, not being given an invitation to your own husband’s trial, but she would figure out a way to get in and watch as her husband fought for his life outside of Azkaban. She would also have to take Harry, that way if it all went pear-shaped, he would at least see his dad one last time. That is what she would do and besides that, she would make sure that everything went alright.

“Lily! Lily!” Molly said repeatedly. “Merlin, you zoned out.”

“I’m sorry,” Lily said, looking towards her son. “I was just thinking.”

“Oh,” Molly said. “I asked if you wanted to come to the Burrow and spend the night there, it’d be safer.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t,” Lil said with harsh determination in her voice. “I couldn’t possibly come and annoy your family with my own issues. We’ll be right here, even if I have to stay awake all night.”

“It’s no skin of our shoulders,” Molly said, a wide smile on her face. “I have a son about Harry’s age, I’m sure they’d get along fantastically.”

Lily already knew that, seeing as she was Ron’s godmother. She did appreciate the fact that Molly was trying to make her feel better about the whole situation, but she just wanted to sit down and relax and hopefully the trial would pass and James would come home. “As much as I would love that, Molly,” she said. Her bright green eyes directed on the floor, the disrupted rug occupying all her attention. “If it does all go bad tomorrow, I’ll have to get used to it just being me and Harry.”

Molly sat quietly, her hands clasped over her lap. “But –”

“I know what you’re going to say, but I know what I have to do.”

It was Harry’s soft sobs that stopped any kind of argument starting, especially from two mothers. Lily, thankful for the interruption, got up and quickly tended to her son, who appeared as if he was now frightened, almost hours after the event. She laid a soothing hand on the small back of her son and sent Molly a high apologetic look. In a sense, she felt very bad for using her son as a way to cut off the conversation between herself and Molly Weasley, but it just had to be done, she couldn’t stand the current conversation, let alone sharing a house with seven other people, it wouldn’t be pleasant.

“Alright,” Molly said, still looking as if she objected to the fact that Lily would be staying here. “If you need anything, anything at all, just Floo over and we’ll help you out the best we can.”

Lily nodded and watched Molly leave, despite the young age the woman had attached to motherhood like she was born with it. Instantly marrying straight out of school, much like most did, she had a reputation for being overbearing and motherly, even to people that were older than her.

She barely had time to think when there was another loud boom and she instantly ducked, holding her son tightly and hiding themselves.

A fizzle and then a cracking sound followed, followed by a slight whistle.

Lily stood and looked out the window at the fireworks, as if the world was instantly celebrating the downfall of Lord Voldemort. She sniffed and glanced out the window, even as Muggles cheered for the fireworks, unaware of what they really represented. A war full of death, torture and loss.

“Mum.”

“Yes, dear,” Lily said, lifting her son so he could see the fireworks. “Perhaps now, Harry, we can finally have some peace.”

It was planned, by Albus Dumbledore, to release fireworks of the colours of a phoenix near the houses of Order members, to celebrate the victory. That’s how most Order members knew the Dark Lord was no more, as they would only go off on a certain condition. Despite the war being won, there would always be Death Eaters claiming that the Dark lord still lived and continued to do what he did, killing off innocent people.

* * *

Lily had managed to get into the trial of her husband, with a bit of flattery and cunning, which the Sorting Hat said she would do well in Slytherin for. Promising to sit silent and that her son should she his father was a very easy to way to worm your way passed fathers, especially new fathers who would do anything for their children.

“Alright,” the man said sternly, his eyes locked onto the green eyes of the woman. “I’m only doing this because I believe he’s innocent and deserves to see his son.”

“Thank you,” Lily said, clasping the man’s hands. “Thank you so much.”

“No problem.”

Lily regarded the smiling man with a smile of her own and silently slipped into the room, hoping that no one would sense her as she watched. These trials weren’t considered to be open and the only people who were invited were Wizengamot members. She settled down and handed her son a bottle, hoping he’d use that and keep himself occupied.

A gavel slammed against a table, silencing the room.

Bartemius Crouch stood at the front of the room, glancing around the room before he flicked his wand, a piece of parchment appearing. “The court is now in process!”

Lily, not being one for politics, found the entire ordeal boring, especially the over exaggeration of banging a gavel. The instant someone made a sound, whether it was a cough or a sniff or even a scrapping of a foot, Bartemius Crouch would slam down the gavel and shout silence.

It was almost becoming painful to not laugh.

“We’re here for the trial of James Potter,” Bartemius Crouch said, slamming the gavel once more, making sure the room was silent. “How do you plead?”

As if the moments those four words were said, a cage appeared and so did James Potter.

“I have no idea what I did wrong,” James said, holding his chin high, his Gryffindor bravado wouldn’t fail him now. “You just came in my house, after I duelled Bellatrix Lestrange, and abducted me.”

The room shifted into an uneasy silence.

“I’ve been an Auror since the day I graduated from Hogwarts,” James continued. “Never once have I ever been questioned, and yet you’re putting me on trial?”

“We’ve never had to previously,” Bartemius Crouch said, his tone unwavering. “But now that we’ve pulled up some old evidence, you have a _darker_ side.”

“A darker side?” James repeated, dumbstruck. “Unlike most of your Aurors, I got by without resorting to the use of any of the three Unforgivable Curses, even if they were legalised for the war.”

“Irrelevant!” Bartemius Crouch snapped, smashing the gavel onto wooden pedestal once more. “You were a frequent bully to Slytherins in school, were you not, Auror Potter?”

“I was a teenager,” James said. “And I wouldn’t call myself a bully. Yes, I did harass a student, but my wife scolded me and I quickly wizened up and learned that if I wanted to be an Auror, I’d have to actually study and be more than a schoolyard nuisance.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” James replied, his face calm and his eyes flashing. “Also, regarding the person that you’re referring to, we’re on decent terms now. Let’s not forget that he gave as good as he got.”

Lily listened as the trial continued, wild accusations were thrown and some were instantly deflected, especially since she knew that James was innocent, the man was far to Gryffindor to do anything wrong and not feel guilty about it. She knew that James was pretty much harmless. One time he hit a Death Eater with a rather powerful Cutting Curse and quickly mended it before taking him in, instead of letting the Death Eater suffer.

“What about the blood ward?” Bartemius Crouch said, glaring as he listened to the constant excuses. “The darkest of magic, worse than the Unforgivable Curses.”

“I did that to protect my family!” James said, his eyes flickering towards his wife. “Frank even agreed to help me, but he trusted his manor’s wards.”

“Frank Longbottom?” Bartemius Crouch asked. “The Auror?”

“Yes,” James said bitterly. “He’s the one that suggested it in the first place.”

“I somehow doubt that,” Bartemius Crouch said. “It was his son that defeated You-Know-Who.”

“I know that!” James spat. “I know that Neville defeated You-Know-Who, I know that it cost the boy both his mother and his father.”

“No,” Bartemius Crouch said, slamming his gavel down. “Frank would have lived but your blood ward killed him.”

“I was the binder for that!” James spat. “If anyone would have died, it would have been me.”

“I haven’t studied into Blood Magic, nor has any respectable wizard,” Bartemius Crouch said, leaning backwards. “All we have is your hearsay. If it wasn’t for the fact that Auror Frank Longbottom was bound to a blood ward, he would have been powerful enough to hold off You-Know-Who.”

“Exactly why this case makes no sense!”

The sound of a gavel smashing into something sounded across the room once more and a few people coughed to cover their snorts or laughter.

“Sir,” a tall, lanky looking man said with a slight shake to his tone. His dark brown curly hair was sticking to his forehead. “Blood Magic, or blood wards, are rather simple in explanation, but difficult to craft. You see, there’s four different roles, yet it only requires three people as one person can handle two roles. There’s the Binder, in this case, that was Frank Longbottom. Then there’s the caster, which in our case was James Potter. There’s also the ward creator, which would be James Potter. Finally, there’s the person the ward is against and the ward attunes to their blood, stopping them access.”

“Give us a shortened version – get all that down, Scribe!”

The man sighed. “It’s not possible for the blood ward to have made Auror Frank Longbottom weaker, it just doesn’t seem plausible. From the damage of the Longbottom Manor, Aurors Frank and Alice Longbottom held their own, without hindrance against You-Know-Who, an impressive feat in itself before their son, Neville, destroyed him.”

“Blood Magic is unforgivable!” Bartemius Crouch instantly. “No matter the outcome.”

“If it wasn’t for James Potter casting a blood ward, not that I approve, Voldemort wouldn’t have fallen tonight.”

Everyone flinched and turned towards the elderly frame of Albus Dumbledore, despite his older appearance, he was humming with magic and a certain youthful stance.

“Dumbledore,” Bartemius Crouch greeted. “It’s still unforgivable magic and was never cleared to be allowed.”

Even with Albus Dumbledore, the proceedings looked highly grim and one-sided, especially since Bartemius Crouch never allowed James Potter to speak or defend himself and quite often accused said man of being a Death Eater or on equal ground with You-Know-Who.

James didn’t look any better, in fact it appeared as if he was getting worse by the second, as if he already knew what the outcome was going to be.

Lily sat in her seat with her son and shook her head at each idiotic thing said. It took all her self-control to not snap at Bartemius Crouch or jump up and defend her husband as doing either would get her thrown out, wife or not.

The meeting wasn’t exactly long, a short three hours and seventeen minutes, but it felt like days and days had gone by, especially when a defeated expression appeared on James’ face. Even being a Potter, which held a longline of respected Aurors and seemingly light wizards that helped defend the wizarding world over the years wasn’t enough to get Bartemius Crouch to overlook the once off offender.

In the end, James got twenty-five years in Azkaban for the usage of forbidden magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Kicks wall sheepishly*
> 
> I’m going to be honest, I hate this chapter, absolutely, positively, hate it! I was at around 1,600 words since the day after I posted the first chapter until now. I think it ended up as 2,200 or something words, which is terribly short for a chapter. You guys have no idea how much I just wanted to skip this chapter and scoop the entire business under the rug but I had such good ideas with Sirius and Remus being there and Dumbledore and a massive defence that failed, but I couldn’t be bothered.
> 
> I know that seems lazy, but you got to understand that this’ll contain all seven years, plus some extra stuff, it’s going to be long and I don’t want to burn myself out so early. If I didn’t do something with this chapter, it’d have sat like it is for three weeks until I was just like: **** it, I don’t care anymore.
> 
> I hate releasing such dodgy chapters, ones that I haven’t poured my heart into, but you have to feel me on this, this chapter was killing me. Next one will be better though and will probably feature a small time skip, as well.


	3. Restarting Life

** Spur of the Moment **

By ModernDayWeeaboo

Chapter Three: **Restarting Life**

***

Lily spent the following years since her husband’s sentencing into Azkaban in relative solitude, only allowing visits from Molly and her children. She had rented a house in Muggle London and promptly vanished from thin air to everyone else who she didn’t deem a close friend. It was to be expected, as she did get a few threatening letters from the not so adoring public about them being Death Eater scum, but she was able to shrug it off and continue on with her life happily with her son, who took the moving with ease, which wasn’t hard to understand as he was no less than two when it started.

She watched her son, who was standing outside in the backward, with a boy just younger than him as they played a game that looked as if they were fighting with swords, most likely calling themselves knights and aiming to rescue a damsel in distress.

“Quick!” Harry said hurriedly, his tone in one of sheer panic. “You need to hide!”

“But my sword –”

“I’ll find it,” Harry said helpfully, gesturing as a knight. “Hide and then we’ll attack again.”

Lily couldn’t help but smile as the game played out and the two boys attacked an invisible dragon with nothing but sticks from the ground. She held her steaming cup of tea close to her lips as the boy, Jackson, tripped over nothing and didn’t wail, but screamed out for his knight-brother to aid him and heal his wounds.

What she didn’t expect for Harry to actually heal his wounds.

“Woah!” Jackson said, running his fingers of his now cut free knee. “How’d you do that?”

“I dunno,” Harry said, looking at Jackson’s knee closely. “Maybe it was just a bit of dirt and it got blown away by the wind.”

“Maybe.”

“Well, now that you’re all better and healed, we should get back to the battle!”

Lily relaxed and leant back against the window and watched the two boys playing once more. It was amazing that her son could be so swift on his feet when thinking, but then again he could be such a klutz when thinking about anything else. She wondered how Harry would grow up and if she was doing everything right, seeing as Harry was now seven and had some sort of insane trait of friendliness inside him, especially after he was taught about his father and the war that went by.

Molly had simply said that it was because Harry missed his father, he made up for it by being so kind towards everyone else, even if they hated him. That’s how Ron and Harry had started out, as enemies, at least it was one-sided as Harry doesn’t have a hateful bone in his body. His persistence in making friends eventually overcome Ron’s slight bitterness and they became friends.

The Potter name wasn’t tarnished because of what happened, but a few people did take a second glance when they saw Lily or Harry, which meant Lily avoided the wizarding world as much as possible, not wanting her son to be stared at like he was going to lash out and attack them or something else as stupid.

Lily watched once more as the two boys continued to play outside, the sun beaming brightly down on them, despite it being in the at the end of autumn, just breaking into winter. She had lathered both the boys in sunscreen and sent them on their way in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and told them to be safe.

“Lily, are you home?”

Lily walked into the living room and glanced at the head of Molly Weasley, who had a smile plastered all over her face. “Hello, Molly, come on through.”

“Every time I stop by this room has changed slightly,” Molly said, looking around the room which had the sofa moved. “Where’s Harry?”

“He’s out the back with his new friend Jackson, they met at school.”

“Muggle?”

“Yeah,” Lily said, glancing out the back window. “Not that it bothers Harry at all, a friends a friend to him.”

“That’s great!” Molly said, placing something she had made onto the coffee table that sat in front of the sofa. “I just wanted to ask if it was alright for Ron to come over next weekend. Neville’s been a bit busy and hasn’t had the time for Ron and so Ron has been getting a bit lonely being stuck at home all day.”

Lily blinked but nodded nonetheless. “I think it’d be a great idea,” she said with a bright smile. “I’ll just have to make sure that Harry hasn’t got anything planned on that day because of school.”

“Oh that’s right, he attends a Muggle school, doesn’t he?”

“He goes to an all-boys school not too far away from here,” Lily said calmly. “Most boys tend to stay there for extended periods of time, but because we don’t live very far away, the headmaster said that it would be fine if he came home and that we could walk there daily.”

“Fascinating,” Molly said.

“The school is like a Muggle version of Hogwarts, to be honest,” Lily said. “There’s four different houses, not that they’re called that and you’re sorted by taking an exam.”

“What house did he land in?”

“The equivalent of Slytherin,” Lily said, laughing. “Although he was placed in the equivalent of Hufflepuff when he asked to be with the ‘friendliest people’ in the school as he was concerned that he wouldn’t make friends.”

“Is that his uniform?” Molly said, looking at the light grey slacks and the navy blue blazer, which held a few badges and various things attack to the front and on the arms.

“Yes,” Lily said simply. “A white collared shirt and black dress shoes are also required and he threw his tie and sweater somewhere as soon as he got home. There’s a picture of him in his entire school uniform on the mantel if you wish to look at it.”

Molly walked over towards the mantel and looked at Harry, his short hair sticking up in odd places and the boy dressed as if he was going to attend a dinner with the Queen of England. “He looks like he’s fit in rather well. Perhaps it would be wise if I sent Ronald off to a school. Knowing my luck he’d talk about magical things.”

“Harry did at first,” Lily said with a slight chuckle. “He told one of his friends that I could make things fly through the air and I simply had to redo the spell and make it look like one of those street magicians, although Harry caught on after that and quickly gestured his friend out of the room.”

Molly laughed and shook her head, moving towards the kitchen behind Lily. “Ronald would be much, much worse and unlike you, our entire house is magical so no one besides people that know about magic can come over.”

“I should bring Harry over sometime soon, perhaps on a day that he’s got off school that way he can spend the night.”

“That would be lovely, I’m sure Ronald would appreciate that,” Molly said happily. “Although I wouldn’t suggest you call him Ronald, he’ll get upset with you.”

“I’m sure he would,” Lily said. “What does he prefer? I assume it’d be Ron.”

“Indeed,” Molly said, picking up the tea Lily had just made. “Who’s that boy out there?”

“That’s Jackson, Harry’s newest friend.”

“Hmm.”

“They get along pretty decently,” Lily said. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone else have Harry’s desire for being a knight in shining armour.”

The conversation continued, the two old friends catching up in the time that they haven’t seen each other in. Molly explained everything about her children that she possibly could, from their first words to their favourite foods. Lily did the same and the two of them laughed for many minutes before the two boys came back in with dirty knees and a few cuts on their arms.

“Can I have a drink?” Harry panted, stopping in front of his mum. “Hello Mrs. Molly!”

“You needn’t call me Mrs. Molly, you can just call me Molly, Harry.”

“Jackson, this is Molly, a friend of my mums,” Harry explained to the other boy. “She’s really nice and makes me cookies.”

Lily sat handed each boy a cup of milk and shook her head. “How many times do I need to tell you, Harry? You don’t need to ask for a drink.”

“Every day,” Harry said with a cheeky smile.

Lily just shook her head and sent both the boys a smile as they put the glass cups down and tore off back outside, making use of the sunny day. “I wish he’d stay like that forever,” she said. “It’s going to be hard knowing that in a few years he’ll be off to Hogwarts and his childish behaviour will vanish and make way for a mature young man.”

“That’s the joy of it, isn’t it?” Molly said with a fond smile. “Knowing that they’ll grow up and be successful in their lives and that you helped set that up.”

“Is it bad if I wish that Harry would never grow up and remain at home forever?” Lily said, her eyes following her son. “The years have gone by so fast. It honestly feels like I birthed him just yesterday.”

Molly patted Lily’s shoulder in a comforting manner. “I believe that you’ll be stuck with Harry for a little longer, Lily,” she said. “I don’t think he’d leave you alone, even if he was determined to get away from home. He loves you too much.”

 “You think?”

“Of course,” Molly said with a wide smile. “I think Ron’ll be the same, honestly.”

“I would have thought that he’d be straight out of there, the youngest brother of five other siblings.”

“I’m not sure how to explain it,” Molly said. “I just have this feeling that Ginny will be out of home before Ron will.”

“You think?” Lily asked, looking confused. “I always thought it would be reversed and that it’d be Ginny at home and all the boys gone.”

Molly laughed and shook her head and began explaining the quirks of all her kids and how she just had this small part of her that knew how her kids would turn out. “Bill will most likely travel abroad and settle in a new life in somewhere obscene like India or something; Charlie will most likely remain a bachelor for his entire life, unsure about him yet; Percy will most likely become a highly influential person; The twins will remain together forever, wherever life takes them; Ron will be just obsessed with Quidditch as much as Ginny will be, both will be professionals with the right dedication.”

“Sounds like each of your children have a good life ahead of them,” Lily said. “It sucks that I cannot see Harry’s future like you can. I never did believe in Divination though, perhaps that’s why.”

“I got an ‘Acceptable’ in that subject,” Molly said. “It has nothing to do with that, it’s just in your senses.”

“I must be such a terrible mother.”

“Nonsense, I didn’t realise what the little feeling was until I had Ginny,” Molly said. “It takes a while to grasp. You’ve done a wonderful job raising Harry into a respectable little boy, you should be proud.”

Lily gave Molly a rather watery smile before quickly vanishing to clean herself up and not look like a mess. She appreciated how Molly could grow to mother everyone, even adults that were eleven years younger than herself. In a sense, she wished that her and Molly attended Hogwarts together, it would have been such a great experience.

“Listen, Lily,” Molly said the moment Lily re-entered the room. “I must be off, I just left Arthur without saying anything, but please do drop by whenever you feel the need, I’ll always open my door to you.”

* * *

“Wait,” Harry said, pausing at the front door, his eyes slightly wide. “We’re actually going to Ron’s house?”

Lily smiled at her son, who was growing so fast. “Yes, Harry,” she said. “Do you remember that time when you were playing with Jackson and Molly came over?”

“Yes, mum.”

“Well, it was way back then when Molly and I planned for you to have a sleepover at her home and it kind of fell through,” Lily said, locking the door. That particular even felt like years ago, despite it only being a year since it happened. “I don’t blame your school, but they certainly didn’t help with their constant events and meetings.”

Harry listened as his mum ranted on about the timing of each thing that came up. He laughed when she began explaining the time that the two twins filled the house with a poisonous gas that had to be vented naturally and not using magic, else it increased in density. He quickly learned that the two twins felt no regret for their actions, instead they were actually pleased and instantly worked from that in an attempt to create something else.

“So yeah,” Lily said, holding out her arm for her son to take. “This is the first time in almost a year that you’re both free and nothing has gone wrong.”

“Alright,” Harry said, grasping his mum’s arm tightly and waited for the feeling to begin.

Harry and Lily soon vanished from their living room and appeared on a pathway that lead up towards the Weasley house, better known as the Burrow.

“Woah!”

“What is it, Harry?” Lily asked as she began walking up the path.

Harry glanced at the house, which looked to be entirely magical in every aspect, even looking like it was a massive wizarding tower from some of the books he had read and as if was something straight out of a fairy-tale he had read. Even if the building was a hidden by trees and things obscuring his vision of the house, but he did see little puffs of smoke and a room that hung over the trees. “Look at that house, mum!” he said excitedly, his legs automatically shifting into a slight run, hoping to get to the house faster.

“Slow down, Harry, it’s not going anywhere.”

Harry twisted and pouted at his mum, letting her know how exactly he felt about having to walk slowly and not run towards the house as he wished to. “Okay, mum.”

“You needn’t act like I’m asking you to give up your pet,” Lily said, smiling. “Before we get there, there’s a few things that I need to tell you before we actually get inside.”

“Oh,” Harry said, slowly down and walking next to his mum. “What is it?”

“Neville Longbottom will be there,” Lily said, her eyes shifting towards her son, waiting for some kind of reaction. “So it’ll be you, Neville, Fred and George, Ron and finally Ginny.”

“Oh, right,” Harry said, looking slightly startled at the piece of news that he got. He chewed his bottom lip and looked away from his mum, muttering.

“I’m sorry, Harry, but I have no idea what you’re even saying,” Lily said, dragging her son’s attention back to her. “You don’t need to panic that I’ll scold you for speaking, Harry, you know that.”

“Should I – should I avoid him?” Harry said softly, his teeth pressing down on his lip furiously. “I mean, does he blame us?”

Lily had fed her son snippets of what happened with James all those years ago and even pushed for visiting permission so her husband could see the stunning boy that Harry had become in a war free world, one that James helped solidify. “Neville doesn’t blame us, Harry, he doesn’t blame your father for what happened to Frank.”

“Oh – okay,” Harry said, speeding up slightly. “I was just making sure, I didn’t want him to be uncomfortable.”

Lily placed a clam hand on her son’s shoulder and pushed him slightly so that he’d walk faster than he already was, despite his near running state, he still moved slower than her. “Neville is a very forgiving boy, a lot like yourself,” she said, breaking the mental comparison immediately, as the two were not alike. “Neville is just a little more rougher than you and can be a tad defensive, but you’ll get along decently, as long as you don’t talk about the war or his parents.”

“Oh – alright,” Harry said, kicking a pile of dirt as he walked up the slight hill towards the Weasley’s house. “I was just making sure.”

“I know, sweetie,” Lily said, running her hand through her son’s hair, making him frown at her. “You’ll never be too old for me to ruffle your hair, Harry, same with kissing your forehead and cheek.”

“What about when I’m taller than you?” Harry said cheekily, his lips forming into a slight smile. “You’d have to jump to reach my head.”

“I could easily get you while you’re sitting down,” Lily replied. “Plus, it’ll be ten or so year years before you’re taller than me, so I’ll have a long time to harass you with my motherly affections.”

“You know I don’t mind,” Harry said. “As long as you keep cooking me food!”

Lily laughed and knocked on the front door to the Burrow. Inside, she heard footsteps as they approached the door, as well as some idle chatter. “Now, Harry, I’ll see how you go and if you’re alright to stay the night then I’ll bring your overnight bag later on tonight.”

“Okay!” Harry said, waiting near the door so that he could say hello to Molly once again. He liked the woman as she was friendly and treated him like another son, filling him with heaps of food and such. “I’m so excited!”

“I can tell – Molly, how are you?”

“I’m great, Lily,” Molly said, looking at Harry with a smile. “I’m glad that he’s finally able to come over!”

“What’s that smell?” Harry asked, sniffing the air.

“Harry! Don’t be rude.”

“No, mum, something smells great!”

“Oh,” Lily said, giving Molly a questioning look. “It smells like it could be dessert, Harry.”

“It smells great!”

“Well, don’t just stand on the doorstep, come in!” Molly said, almost pulling them both inside.

* * *

Harry, Ron and Neville sat on the floor in Ron’s room, discussing Quidditch and their future lives at Hogwarts, seeing as they were all magical and would be going together. It was probably the biggest revelation that the three had, that no matter what, they’d be at Hogwarts together.

Harry sat on the foot of Ron’s bed, his overnight bag tucked just behind it, near the wardrobe and kicked his legs in the air as the small group talked amongst themselves. Of course, he heard the twins as they did something in their bedrooms. It sounded explosive.

“What house do you think you’ll be in?” Ron asked, fixing one of his posters on the wall. “I’ll be in Gryffindor! At least that’s what I reckon.”

“I don’t mind where I go,” Harry said sheepishly, not believing that the house he was sorted into mattered. “As long as I’m happy, that’s all that matters.”

“Wouldn’t be happy in Slytherin,” Ron said in a determined tone, his face screwed up at the sheer thought. “Fred and George say it’s where all the evil people go.”

“I don’t understand,” Harry said. “If that was the case then the house would be removed or something.”

“Well,” Ron said, dragging out the ‘l’. “The headmaster cannot just remove an entire house because they’re evil, it’s not fair – I wish he would though.”

“But –”

“Ron’s right,” Neville muttered rather darkly, his eyes pushed towards the small window. “All houses have evil people in them.”

Harry wasn’t sure how he could get his point across and not upset Ron or Neville, they both seemed dead certain that Slytherin was the house of all evil people and that it’d never change. Of course, despite not even going to Hogwarts yet, he knew that just because you were in one house or another, it didn’t make you evil. It was the same at his school, one of the houses focused on sporty people and they tended to be rather mean, but it was only a minority of them that did it.

He allowed the conversation to be changed from Hogwarts towards Quidditch, not that he enjoyed any sort of sports, he was more of a spectator and couldn’t relate to wanting to actually climb on a flimsy broomstick and fly around and breakneck speeds chasing after a golden Snitch, it seemed like a great way to welcome a painful accident.

“So who’s your favourite team?”

The question startled Harry and he turned and looked at Ron with a sheepish expression, his eyes found their way to one of many Quidditch posters plastered over the walls. “I – uh – don’t really have one,” he said softly, not wanting to be shouted at because his interests were different. “Mum and I focused on Muggle sports and stuff. At school, we play football.”

“What’s football?” Ron asked, looking rather curious. “Did I say it right? Football – like foot-bawl.”

Harry shrugged. “I guess so…”

“Great!” Ron said. “What is it? Is it like Quidditch?”

Harry went on explaining what football was and how it worked, even throwing in a story from the sports day at his school, where all the groups got together and challenged each other in sports, ached emic and various other challenges, such as swimming, chess and various forms of crafting, ranging from cooking to woodwork. He quickly learned that Ron either didn’t grasp the concept of football or he just didn’t care.

It wasn’t much longer after that when the three boys were called down for dinner, as well as the twins who came out of their room wearing a rather happy expression and had slightly burned hair. Molly gave them both a scolding and flicked her wand at them, slightly fixing their hair of the charcoal. She thanked Merlin that their hair wasn’t burned off as she couldn’t afford any hair regrowth potions.

They all sat at the table and waited as copious amounts of food was shovelled onto each plate and then Molly finally sat down and smiled at them.

Harry wasn’t sure whether he could eat now or if they would say some sort of prayer, like Jackson’s family. He waited and waited and Ron finally gave in and started shovelling mashed potato into his mouth.

“Dinner was delicious, Molly,” Harry said after he had finished both the main meal and dessert. He actually felt close to exploding. “I’m so full, I don’t think you could pay me to eat another bite.”

“I’m glad, dear,” Molly said, picking up the dirty plates and shifting them towards the sink. “Arthur should be home soon and then you can meet him.”

Harry had forgotten that there was a father in this household, despite how badly it sounded in his head. He was used to just being mothers and he never expected Molly to have a husband. “I cannot wait to meet him,” he said honestly, excitement building up inside him. Who was this man called Arthur? Was he a hard worker who supplied the family from a hard day’s work or was a he a kind, caring father who always had an open ear for his children?

When he snapped from the reverie he was in, he realised that there was an argument going on.

“It’s not dangerous, mum,” one of the twins muttered, glancing at his twin he smirked. “Plus it’ll make us heaps when it’s perfected.”

“I’ll not have you blowing things up – you could be hurt!”

“We’ll be right, mum,” the other twin said, standing up. “We haven’t been hurt yet!”

“ _Yet_!” Molly stressed that one simple word. “You blowing up everything – all hours of the night – never a quiet moment!”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine, mum,” Ron said, leaning back on the wooden seat. “They’ve been doing this since they learned how to operate a cauldron.”

“I just wish that you two wouldn’t pick up random plants and just carelessly toss them into your cauldron,” Molly said, waving the wooden spoon that she was holding around. “At least until you do three years of Potions at Hogwarts!”

“Fred and I will be off to Hogwarts in a few months,” George said. “Bill also loaned us his book on potions that’s required for second-year Potions. We know what we’re doing.”

Harry noticed the devious smirk on both their faces and shuddered.


	4. Dawdling in Diagon Alley

** Spur of the Moment **

By ModernDayWeeaboo

Chapter Four: **Dawdling in Diagon Alley**

***

“Harry!”

Harry groaned and rolled over, pulling the quilt over his head, mumbling sleepy. He was hoping that the person talking to him would get the hint and just go away, leaving him to sleep. He was always allowed to sleep in on his birthday and today wasn’t going to be any different.

“Harry!” the very familiar yet persistent voice said again.

Harry hit his bed with his arms and sat up. “Yes?”

“Would you stop being so lazy? It’s almost twenty past eleven.”

“At night?” Harry asked, despite how stupid the question seemed as his room was far too light for it to be night, but he was hoping that what he had said was correct and he could go back to sleep.

“In the morning,” Lily said, exasperated. “You’ve pretty much slept all day.”

“No I haven’t,” Harry said, his mouth quirked into a very cheeky smile, one that Lily told him made him look like his father did when he was planning a prank. “You said that it’s twenty past eleven – that’s hardly all day.”

Lily’s exasperated look just increased and she spun on the spot, facing towards the door. “Go have a shower, brush your teeth and then join me in the lounge room.”

“Yes, mum,” Harry said, waiting for his mum to leave his room before he climbed out of bed. Padding across the room, he picked up the outfit that his mum had chosen for him, as well as the pair of underwear that left him slightly embarrassed.

How many other eleven year old boys’ mums picked out their clothes still?

Picking up the slightly tight briefs, which had patterns of Muggle comics on them, he slowly slid them over his legs and covering his private parts, snapping the black band around his waist. He looked around aimlessly and all he could see was a bathrobe and some pants and a shirt.

Shrugging, he slid the two pieces of normal clothing on and promptly walked out of his room and down the small flight of stairs, hoping to find his shoes and socks out here as they most definitely weren’t in his room.

No such luck.

“Mum, have you seen my shoes?” Harry shouted, his voice echoing throughout the house. “I can’t find them anywhere!”

“No need to shout,” Lily chided, dropping a pair of black shoes and a pair of ankle socks in front of her son. “Where’s your robe?”

“The bathrobe? I put it in the wash,” Harry lied, he just left it there. “Was it new? I can get it out of the wash if you want.”

“I want you to wear it.”

“I’m not wearing a bathrobe outside!”

“Did you even read the book I set aside for you four months ago?” Lily said. “Sometimes, I swear.”

“I did read it,” Harry said, toying with his sleeve. “I skimmed it and such.”

“It was a book about the wizarding world,” Lily said, flicking her wand and summoning the robe. “It was meant to get you up to speed on the wizarding world, ready for when you went to Hogwarts.”

“Oh, right.”

“You’ll be reading it as soon as we get back,” Lily said sternly. “And go and brush your teeth, Harry, you’re so lazy.”

“I’m not lazy,” Harry said, smelling his own breath. “I was just putting on my shoes first and then I was going to do that.”

“Also have a shower.”

Harry sighed and walked back up the stairs, muttering under his breath. He hated being asked to do things in the morning as he simply forgot what he was asked to do and most of the time he’d only do half of what he was asked. He got in his room and discarded the shirt he was wearing, as well as his pants and underwear and made for the shower completely starkers, already knowing that his mum wouldn’t come up and annoy him as she wanted him to complete his tasks as quickly as possible.

Without further hesitation, he stepped into the shower, almost tripping over the glass door that refuses to do what he wishes, as is routine as he’s a klutz. Picking up a bottle of shampoo and conditioner he began the task of cleaning himself in a timely manner, as well as brushing his teeth while showering because it was saving time.

Eventually Harry found himself fully dressed and in the lounge with his mum, who was fastening the robe on him, which took more time to do than everything else. “And wizards actually wear this?” he asked, looking at the piece of fabric. “You’re not having me on, are you?”

“I’m not having you on, as you so eloquently put it,” Lily said. “Most wizards just wear a cloak.”

“Wait… just the cloak?”

“Yes, they’re naked underneath.”

“What the hell?”

“Don’t swear,” Lily scolded. “Now, open your letter.”

Harry peered at the letter and couldn’t help but smirk, the green ink made him feel slightly giddy as it matches his eyes and was his favourite colour. “How do they know where I exactly sleep?” he asked, point at the fact it said his bedroom with another description, claiming it to be the one overlooking the back garden. “Stalkers…”

“Magic,” Lily said. “Now open it and read it.”

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

“Cool,” Harry said easily. “What’s with all these random titles? What’s a Supreme Mugwump?”

“Political titles,” Lily said.

“Politicians shouldn’t be teaching.”

“Albus Dumbledore isn’t a politician, Harry.”

Harry noticed the fact that his mum’s tone went softer at the mention of the man’s name and he nodded, understanding that this man was the evil one that plagued the wizarding world. “I’m sorry, mum, I’ll call him You-Know-Who.”

“What?”

“I don’t know why our headmaster is a Dark Lord, or whatever it’s called, but I’ll go along with it.”

“Albus Dumbledore isn’t a Dark Lord, Harry,” Lily said. “You read none of the books I gave you, did you?”

“Not really.”

“Voldemort was the evil wizard, Dumbledore fought him.”

“OH!” Harry said loudly, understanding. “I got them confused.”

Lily just put her hand on her head and once again explained the wizarding war to her son, who seemed to not be listening to her explanation at all. She explained it with the upmost patience and care to her son, who was listening, just not with one hundred percent concentration. It really was hard to believe he was eleven already.

“Voldemort is such an odd name,” Harry said at the end of the explanation. “It’s French.”

“And what does it mean?” Lily asked, aware that her son took a few classes at school and was quickly dismissed from the class after he frequently butchered the language, it was rather amusing actually.

“It means flight from death,” Harry said proudly. “Such an odd name, seeing as he died in the end anyway.”

“What lesson do you take now instead of a secondary language?” Lily asked, wondering what her son was now taking seeing as he failed at French, Spanish, Japanese and Chinese. “The school simply didn’t inform me that you had dropped the last language they offered.”

“I get a free lesson,” Harry said. “I just played football with the younger children who didn’t have a lesson.”

“When you say played, you mean that you just stood and watched.”

“Yeah, that,” Harry said, smiling. You couldn’t pay him to play such a physical sport such as football when he could get just as much enjoyment as watching it and not have to work himself to near fainting levels of exhaustion.

You couldn’t pay him to read a book either.

“I wish you would do something,” Lily said, fussing around with her bag, which contained the money needed for today’s shopping trip. “Quidditch is a massive sport in the wizarding world and if you’re clueless on it, you’ll be behind.”

“Oh well.”

“It’s not ‘oh well’, Harry,” Lily said, air quoting the words. “I would push you towards studies, but clearly you found books on magic disinteresting, so I’m pushing that you’ll actually enjoy something.”

Harry said nothing and just let his mum rant and rave about his education, not that he really cared about it. He had no idea what he wanted to be when he grew up. When he was asked at school he snorted and threw out the usual astronaut, race car driver, or famous, that everyone else said. He would have wanted to be in the military, but he didn’t like being yelled at. It was a thought that had, on multiple occasions, crossed his mind.

It wasn’t odd, he was raised as a Muggle child that was often taught things about magic. So, he was somewhat expected to take on a Muggle career.

“Are you ready to leave?” Lily asked, trying her hardest to not sigh over her son’s lack of interest in anything regarding the magical world. She could have sworn that most children would be awestruck if they could do what he could. “I don’t want to drag this day out and I need to get home earlier as I need to catch Allie before she goes back to the office.”

Harry disliked Allie, very much. She was a crude woman that had no self-control and would often enough insult him and then act innocent about it. “Of course, mum,” he said, pulling his thoughts from that vile woman that looks more like a gorilla than a human. “Whenever you’re ready to go.”

* * *

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY_

**_ Uniform _ **

_First-year students will require:_

_1\. Three sets of plain work robes (black)_

_2\. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear_

_3\. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)_

_4\. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)_

_Please note that all pupils’ clothes should carry name tags_

**_ Set Books _ **

_All students should have a copy of each of the following:_

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk_

_A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot_

_Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling_

_A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch_

_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore_

_Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger_

_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander_

_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble_

**_ Other Equipment _ **

_1 wand_

_1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)_

_1 set glass or crystal phials_

_1 telescope_

_1 set brass scales_

_Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad_

_ PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST-YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS _

“A broomstick, really?” Harry said, lifting his head from reading the piece of paper with all the things that he needed for his upcoming year at Hogwarts. “Also, why do witches and wizards have such weird names?”

“I have explained this before, Harry,” Lily said, walking through the dusty pub, better known as the Leaky Cauldron. “Witches and wizards use the brooms to fly on and is required to play Quidditch on.”

“Hm, okay,” Harry said, looking at the balding many who was cleaning a cup with a rather dirty rag. “This place looks like it’s frozen in the eighteen hundreds.”

Lily sighed.

“Why does that guy have a turban on his head?” Harry whispered, watching the turban guy stutter as he talked to a rather sketchy looking person in the dark corner. “You scold me when I don’t brush my teeth, but it looks like these people have never heard of a toothbrush!”

Lily just made her son walk faster through the pub, not wanting him to offend the wrong person and be called a clueless Muggleborn, as she once was. “It’s three up, two across.”

“What’s three up and two across?”

“The entrance to Diagon Alley, Harry,” Lily said, tapping her wand against the blank wall. She did wish that she spent more time in the wizarding world, but the sneers she got for her husband just made her feel unwelcome, thus her hasty retreat into the Muggle world, where none of them would dare try and find her or her son.

Harry watched in amazement as the brick wall his mum had just tapped slowly buckled and gave way, revealing a wobbly looking street that was full of people walking around in odd clothing that had gone out of style centuries ago. The street was long and winded, which twisted and turned out of sight, making it unknown how big Diagon Alley really was.

“This is Diagon Alley, Harry,” Lily said, placing her hand on her son’s back. “You’ve been here once before, when you were about two.”

Harry nodded and peered at a nearby store that sold cauldrons, which made him snort that wizards and witches had broomsticks and cauldrons. He realised that he actually needed one of these cauldrons and that they sold the exact one that he needed. “Hey, mum,” he asked, still looking at the cauldrons. “Can I get a self-cleaning one or something?”

“Does the sign say that they have self-cleaning cauldrons, Harry?”

“Well, no it says that they have – uh – all sizes and uh – copper, brass… pewter – I think it is – silver – self-stirring and collapsible cauldrons.”

“Self-cleaning cauldrons are bad for the cauldron, regardless,” Lily said, shifting her son away from the store that sold inferior cauldrons compared to the other store near the middle of the street. “We don’t need to go to Gringotts, which I find thankful as I’m sure the ride down to our vault would make you sick.”

“Vaults?”

“Not explaining it, Harry,” Lily said. “Perhaps I should take you down, just to see you suffer the ride.”

“I’m right,” Harry said, already guessing that the ride must be crazy. “With the odd things I have seen today, it wouldn’t surprise me if you had to ride some sort of mythical creature down shafts.”

“We’re getting your robes first,” Lily said. “Be on your best behaviour.”

Harry nodded and followed his mum to a store that had a sign that read: _Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions_ and that was it. Unlike the other stores, there was no description or information regarding what the store had actually sold. He saw a flash of blond hair in the store and wondered who would actually have hair so bright that it was almost blinding.

“Harry, I hate to leave you alone for a moment, but I do need to actually duck into Gringotts and get something sorted,” Lily said. “Get your robes fitted and then stay in the store and behave.”

Harry smiled as his mum planted a kiss on his forehead and practically run towards the large white building they had passed not even a few minutes ago. In fact, the large white building almost paled in comparison towards the boy’s blond hair in the robe store.

He pushed open the door and jumped slightly when a bell sounded throughout the room. Before he knew it, a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve appeared from behind a curtain, revealing the blond-haired boy, who appeared to be the same age.

“Hogwarts, dear?” Madam Malkin asked, her tone soft and cheerful. “Got the lot here – another young man being fitted up just now, in fact.”

Harry peered around her to get a sneak peek at the boy who was in the back of the building, getting fitted for robes. “I see,” he said softly, unsure of what to actually do. “I’m going to Hogwarts, yes.”

“Come on then,” Madam Malkin said, leading the boy towards the back, placing him next to the blond-haired boy, who looked at him with a curious eye. She hoped these two weren’t rivals or anything. She slipped a long robe over the boy’s head and began to pin it to the right length. “This won’t take long, dear.”

“Hullo,” the blond-haired boy said calmly, his voice dripping with boredom. “You’re going to Hogwarts too?”

“Yes,” Harry said with an expression that told the boy how stupid the question was, seeing as they were obviously the same age and the woman, Madam Malkin, had just said that out loud.

“My father’s next door buying my books and mother’s up the street looking at wands,” the boy said in a slow drawl. “Then I’m going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don’t see why first-years can’t have their own. I think I’ll bully father into getting me one and I’ll smuggle it in somehow.”

Harry was just glad that the boy was clearly too stuck-up to actually have a two-sided conversation. He was sure this boy would end up being a bully, just like those rich kids at his school that played polo on horses and thrived of their dad’s money.

“Have you got your own broom?” the boy asked.

“Yes,” Harry said simply. It wasn’t a lie as he had his own broom, it just wasn’t one that flew. “What about you?”

“Of course!” the blond-boy said as if it was the most obvious answer. “Play Quidditch at all?”

“No.”

“I do – Father says it’s a crime if I’m not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you’ll be in yet?”

“Not really,” Harry said, unsure of where he’d land. He wondered if the sorting was anything like the one he took at school and that he could just ask to go somewhere else.

“Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I’ll be in Slytherin, all our family have been – imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?”

“Oh, yeah,” Harry said, his eyes flicking towards the front door of the store, hoping his mum would come and save him from this torturess situation. He hated these stuck-up rich kids trying to be something that they’re not. “I’d instantly leave.”

The blond boy seemed appreciative of his response and nodded.

Thankfully, his mum seemed to appear right at the moment that the blond boy got the courage to ask about his parents and he quickly got out of the store as soon as he could. Talking about his dad was a bit of a soft spot as he knew that he was in prison for something he didn’t commit and he vowed that when he got out, he would be the best son ever.

Lily led her son around the various places and eventually landed at the Magical Menagerie.

Harry felt as if the store was rather cramped and it was hard to walk around in the store without tripping over a box or a cage. He peered into each enclosure, almost yelping in shock when he saw what his mum called a fire crab, sitting almost sadly in its small enclosure. He felt bad for the thing until it decided to spit fire at him.

“Watch yourself, Harry,” Lily said, trying not to laugh.

Harry continued his walk, looking at all the animals that ranged from the infamous fire crab to various types of toads and other magical animals that he was told to avoid, lest he lose a finger or something else due to the crazy beasts.

“Why not get a cat?” Lily suggested. “That way you can show it to all your friends at home.”

“Good idea,” Harry said as he trotted off towards the location of the cats.

After ten minutes he had found a small fluffy black kitten, which instantly formed a bond with him and smooched his hand. The kitten in question had bright green eyes, much like him and his mum and was rather timid and shy.

“That’ll be seven Galleons,” the shopkeeper said. “I’ll take off two Galleons because it’s a kitten and not a cat.”

Harry was just glad to get the kitten out of the store and that it would soon be going home with the, which he was glad that he would soon have a pet that he could cuddle and love as if it was a mobile teddy bear.

“So,” Lily said, holding the cage with the kitten in it. “What are you going to name her?”

“Lyssa,” Harry said, the only name that actually came into his mind.

Lyssa meowed happily at the name.

“Lyssa?” Lily questioned. “Isn’t that the spirit of mad rage, frenzy, and rabies in animals?”

“Lyssa personifies mad rage and frenzy, as well as rabies in animals. In _Herakles_ she is called upon by Hera to inflict the hero Heracles with insanity. In this scenario she is shown to take a temperate, measured approach to her role, professing not to use her powers in anger against friends, nor to have any joy in visiting the homes of men,” Harry said, as if reading straight from a book. It was no surprise at all that he liked mythology, it was one subject that stayed in his mind. “She counselled Iris, who wishes to carry out Hera's command, against targeting Heracles but, after failing to persuade, bows to the orders of the superior goddess and sends him into a mad rage that causes him to murder his wife and children.”

“Sum it up for me.”

“Lyssa personifies mad rage and frenzy,” Harry repeated the first words that he had spoken before he got pulled into explaining some minor information on mythology. “She has an interesting story, as will my little Lyssa.”

Lily shook her hand, trying not to laugh at the soft spoken tone her son used towards his newfound cat. “Our last stop is getting you a wand.”

“Cool,” Harry said looking at the creepy store with hesitation. He read the peeling gold letters of the store name, making it out to be called _Ollivanders_ and that the store or franchise had been around since 382 BC. It was intriguing to see a store that appeared to be so dusty and vacated be celebrated by so many different people. “Ladies first.”

Lily scowled at her son but walked into the shop first. “I would be proud with your manners if you weren’t sending me in here because you’re scared,” she said, sending her son a look that said it all.

Harry nodded and looked at the single wand that was sitting on a dusty purple cushion. “I still have a bad feeling about this place.”

“It’s fine –”

“AHH!”

“What?” Lily said, turning towards her son who was gesturing towards the man that had just suddenly appeared. “Mr. Ollivander,” she greeted. “This is my son, Harry Potter.”

“Lily Potter!” Mr. Ollivander greeted. “Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work.”

“Yes,” Lily said happily, retrieving her wand and holding it up to the man. “It has served me well over the years.”

“Excellent, excellent.”

Harry stood there awkwardly, his eyes raking over the black boxes that most likely contained wands that would be sold sometime in the future. For a brief second he wondered what would happen if there wasn’t a wand for him.

“Now, Mr. Potter,” Mr. Ollivander said, snapping the boy from his worrisome thoughts. “Have you done any accidental magic before?”

“I have,” Harry admitted. “Quite a few times, actually.”

“Oh?”

“I once got my pants dirty, when I was five, and I desperately wished that they were clean so I wouldn’t get in trouble at all.”

“And?”

“And they cleaned themselves, instantly!” Harry said. “Mum never knew – well, she does now.”

“Curious,” Mr. Ollivander said, reaching around in his cupboards for something. “I think I have the perfect wand for you already – but first, measurements! What arm is your wand arm?”

“He’s right-handed,” Lily said casually from the chair she had taken a seat in. “His writing with his left-hand resembles a drawing from a toddler.”

“Hold out your arm. That’s it,” Mr. Ollivander said, measuring the boy from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round his head. “Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr. Potter. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard’s wand.”

Harry realised that the tape measure was doing this on its own, as he stood there and watched the thing fly around his legs, then around each finger. It was easy to say that he felt a little dizzy trying to follow the thing with his eyes. It wasn’t until the little tape measure wrapped around his private parts that he felt confused.

“That will do,” Mr. Ollivander said, and the tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor. “Right then, Mr. Potter. Try this one. Yew and dragon heartstring. Ten inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave.”

Harry noticed that his mum stood in an instant, a displeased expression on her face. He did realise that she stayed silent, but something about the combination of what was said had startled her and she either was hoping it wouldn’t be the combination or something else that he didn’t grasp.

“Curious,” Mr. Ollivander said, tugging the wand away. “I was certain.”

“Certain that my son was a dark wizard?”

Woah, that went from zero to a hundred real quick. Harry didn’t understand how having a certain wand made him a dark wizard, an evil person.

“The wand chooses the wizard, Mrs. Potter,” Mr. Ollivander said cryptically. “His control over magic at a young age to make his accidental magic work when not in danger all points to the fact that he would be powerful.”

“So you just gave him the most powerful wand combination,” Lily said, deflating.

“Indeed.”

Harry wanted to say that he was there and that they should include him. However, before any sound came out of his partially open mouth, another wand was thrust into his hands and it was tugged straight back almost instantly.

How was he meant to test them if they were pulled straight back from?

“I think I have it!” Mr. Ollivander said after the sixth wand. He handed the boy the seventh wand, the one that he was sure would suit the boy perfectly. “Give it a wave.”

Harry held the white wand in his hand, the traces of light grey traced throughout the wand and ran down towards the tip of the wand, all combining as if it was a vein of magic that spells followed and combined at the tip of the wand. If that made any sense. He was far too awestruck to explain how his wand actually looked, besides the angelic white that it was.

The warmth that surrounded him when he simply held the wand was enough, he knew it was his and he wasn’t handing it back.

“The wand is eleven and a half inches long, made of very old hawthorn wood and has the hair from a rather passive yet understanding unicorn.”

“Why’s the wand white?” Lily asked, confused on that part as hawthorn wood wasn’t white.

“The particular tree was very old and warped in colour,” Mr. Ollivander said. “I believe that Mr. Potter has received a wand that is highly suited for healing. I do believe that this is why the first wand I handed him had such a violent reaction.”

Harry had no idea the reaction was violent. Maybe this man could see the future or something.

“Thank you, Mr. Ollivander,” Lily said, handing over the cost for the wand. “Come on, Harry, let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for the lateness. I got hooked in playing the Division and I forgot to upload it.  
> :/


	5. The Hogwarts Express

** Spur of the Moment **

By ModernDayWeeaboo

Chapter Five: **The Hogwarts Express**

***

Harry had been fretting over the days that slowly crawled up towards the first of September. It was the day that he had been slowly mentally preparing for the fact that he would be spending his next seven years at a school that wasn’t even in London. His mum had spent most of her time helping him read the books that she had given him ages ago.

He had confessed to his mum, reluctantly, that the reason he hadn’t read anything was that he had hopped that it would just go away if he ignored it, despite that being so out of character for him.

He was about midway through _Hogwarts: A History_. He wasn’t stupid, but he wasn’t a perfect grad student, but he wasn’t dumb either. He did well on tests and his biggest goal in classes was to make his mum proud of him for his grades. So far he had never failed a lesson, but he had never received an ideal grade that the smart people tended to receive each lesson.

“Harry,” Lily said softly as she walked into her son’s room. “How are you going with the books?”

“Good,” Harry said, lifting up his notes so that his mum could see them. “I cannot write with those feather things that you use.”

“A quill,” Lily said. “You should learn as I’m sure that most people would look at you oddly if you used a pen in classes.”

Harry sighed and made a protesting noise. “They’re so hard to actually use,” he said. “The feather on the quill gets in the way and I keep leaving ink blobs everywhere from the odd way that it works!”

Lily knew that not teaching her son how to use a quill would come back and bite her when he was going to go to Hogwarts. She knew that some professors demanded a quill, as she used a pen while she was in school and the professor took off marks for it and demanded that she learn the art in a week or she’d have a detention the next time she handed up work using a pen.

“Cursive isn’t my strong point either,” Harry said, thinking. “This is such a big change.”

“I’m sure you’ll get it down in the two weeks before you go to Hogwarts,” Lily said. “If we can get at least an hour of practicing a day, you’ll have it done in no time.”

Harry hoped so. He didn’t want to be the only person at Hogwarts that couldn’t use a quill because he only knew how to use one. He sent his mum a warm smile that made her smile back and begin fidgeting around with his things, making sure it was all packed. “So, how are we sorted into houses?” he asked, curious.

“I didn’t tell you the last six times, Harry, what made you think I’d say it this time?”

Harry couldn’t help but snicker at his mum’s tone. “I’ll keep asking until you tell me,” he said cheekily. “Is it like a test?”

“In a sense,” Lily said cryptically and walked out of the room, a knowing smile on her face.

“I’M LOOKING THROUGH THE REST OF THE BOOK!”

“No need to shout, Harry.”

Harry just laughed and went back to his notes, making sure that he had everything that he needed. He had so far covered most of the recent past of the wizarding world and other various things that had happened. He did wonder what the other wizards and witches would be like when he went there.

The biggest thing was the fact that there would be girls at his school and not just other boys!

It was a few hours later when he dragged his feet down the stairs and dropped into a chair at the table. “I’m up to date on some history and recent events,” he said, picking up his fork and putting it down again. “There’s still a few other things that I have to go over, but I’ll be fully up to date before the term starts!”

“Oh?” Lily said, shifting around in the kitchen. “You caught up quickly.”

Harry blushed slightly and focused on his fingers. “It wasn’t hard when you were helping me with it. You’re really smart.”

The conversation over dinner drifted onto various topics and finally back to Harry’s lessons, which he was actually caught up and a bit ahead of everyone else.

“What are you most concerned about, Harry?” Lily asked, finishing up her meal. “I know that something is bothering you.”

“Making friends,” Harry admitted. “I have a lot of friends now, but none of them will be going with me. Everyone else will have friends and I won’t really have any.”

“Hmm,” Lily said, thinking. “You could make some friends during the train ride.”

“Did you have friends when you went to Hogwarts?” Harry asked. “Like, before you went.”

“I had one,” Lily said. “Severus Snape.”

“The Potions Master?”

“The very same,” Lily said. “We were close throughout our school year, despite the fact we were in separate houses.”

“You were?” Harry repeated, putting emphasis in the word. “You’re not friends now.”

“We had a falling out,” Lily said. “We did talk to each other a few times over the years, but that’s about it.”

“Oh,” Harry said. “Right.”

Lily continued to explain her relationship woes with Severus to her son, who seemed to understand the whole thing perfectly. She had known that Harry had a falling out with Jackson recently, but they fixed that up within ten minutes when Jackson apologies for saying what he did and the two put it behind them instantly.

“You should talk to him again,” Harry said, a smile quickly forming on his face. “You two sounded like great friends.”

“We were,” Lily said, a slight tone of sadness entered her voice in the two simple words spoken. “I’m not one to hold a grudge, but after what happened it just continued on in a downward spiral.”

“Did he not apologise?”

“He did, almost straight after, but I ignored him,” Lily said, ignoring the look that her son gave her. “I was hurt and unsure of how to accept his apology and in the end, we just went different ways and hardly ever spoke.”

Harry was unsure of how to go about this with his mum. Surely she knew that her friend was sorry and that everyone makes mistakes, so he couldn’t think of a valid reason why she never heard him out. “There’s more to the story, isn’t there?”

“Of course,” Lily said. “He began hanging out with the wrong crowd and I know that our friendship suffered even more of that because they praised him for what he did.”

Harry nodded along with the explanation, knowing that it was correct. One action tends to spiral into more and more until the one issue is fixed and it’s all better. He had experienced his first fight with one of his first friends at school and they had a minor falling out, over something ridiculous, and it was never mended in time. They still spoke, but had none of the cheer that they once had when speaking to each other.

He couldn’t help but wonder what happened to the man called Severus.

* * *

“Harry!” Jackson said, excited. “Mum told me that you were going to a different school for the next seven years!”

“Yeah,” Harry said, shrugging.

“When did you learn this?” Jackson said. “I was hoping there’d be a lot of time so we could have a party at school or something!”

Harry laughed and shook his head. “I don’t want a party or anything. If you want to write to me, just leave the letter with my mum and she’ll bring it along on her visits each day.”

“Nice subtle change of the subject, Harry,” Jackson said, smirking. “My mum is talking to your mum and you know how long they can talk for! How about we sneak away and find something to do?”

And so the two young boys did. They silently ran away from their mums and down the corridor towards the glass sliding door that allowed them access to the backyard. They tore across the neatly trimmed grass and towards the area they dubbed as their play area.

Jackson had once asked about how their yard remained so neat and tidy when there was no man to look after the house and such things and Harry just laughed, saying that he and his mum did the gardening each Sunday and they hired a man to do the grass and trimming on Saturday. Of course, all besides the gardening part was false as his mum had magic and used that to do the grass.

“Instead of thinking you’re going away to a prestige school somewhere else,” Jackson, starting to smile. “I’m just going to think that you’re going to a school that is for special people to be trained and that it’s exclusive.”

Harry was staring at his friend with his mouth slightly open. “You mean something silly like a school for people with, like, supernatural powers?”

“Yeah!” Jackson said. “Something like magic! You could be some mage that throws around giant fireballs and things!”

“That’d be cool, wouldn’t it,” Harry said, excitement in his tone. He knew that maybe one day he could do this and that made his excitement real. “Just imagine being able to control fire or water and throwing around or waving your hand and food appearing for you!”

“If you could do that, you’d tell me right?”

“Of course! You’re my best friend.”

“Good, good,” Jackson said, sounding pleased. “I’d tell you if I could. I cannot, by the way.”

“I cannot either,” Harry said sadly. “It would have made our dragons and knights game years ago so much better.”

“So, what’re we gonna do today?” Jackson asked, looking around. “We could play football, you have a net over there and the ball is most likely somewhere.”

“Or basketball!” Harry suggested enthusiastically. “We’ve only played that once and that was it.”

“We stopped because you were _awful_ at it,” Jackson said. “It wasn’t fun for either of us and you just endured it to make me happy.”

“I wasn’t awful,” Harry defended his lack of talent at the sport. “I just don’t understand why you have to bounce the ball each step, it seems stupid! Why not just tuck it under your arm and run?”

“I don’t know,” Jackson said. “It’s just like in football where you cannot us your hands.”

“Because it’s called _foot_ ball,” Harry said, putting emphasis on foot. “Clearly you’d use your feet.”

“You’re an idiot.”

Harry couldn’t help but break down into laughter with his friend. It was three words that caused him to start laughing like an idiot that had never even laughed before. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he clenched his stomach, trying to stop the laughter.

“I know I’m funny, Harry, but it wasn’t _that_ funny.”

“It was,” Harry said, wiping a tear from his eyes. “You were just so blunt about it that it was funny.”

“Shut up and let’s find something to do,” Jackson said, smiling as he pulled over the football net that was tucked near the shed. “Get the football for us.”

“No need to be so bossy,” Harry said. “You could ask and not tell me to go and get it.”

Harry spent an hour playing football with his friend, the only person that could coax him to actually play a sport with him and not moan and whine about having to do something that he disliked.

* * *

Harry was woken up early on the first of September, earlier than he had hoped he would be. He glanced across towards his bedside table and groaned when he realised it was ten minute to eight and that he had to stand around in his excitement for hours before he was finally going to Hogwarts and beginning his education on magic.

Not that his mum would just allow him to stand around.

Lily placed a sticky note on her son’s dressed and placed a charm on it that made it flash as if a small coloured Lumos was on it. “Read that when you’re awake and then meet me down in the kitchen.”

Harry knew that the ‘awake’ part meant that he was functioning and not yawning as walked around his room, tripping over anything that appeared to just suddenly shift in his way. He kicked off his blankets and slowly walked towards the small sticky note, that wasn’t that small when he picked it up. He realised that it was a list of what he needed to do in the morning.

He picked up a pen and drew a line across the first thing on the list which was to have a shower. He found it ridiculous, but knew that his mum only had his best interests in mind and that he did sometimes forget some of the core things in life, such as eating and showering when tired

It all fell down to when he was tired. He wasn’t a morning person.

He walked out of his bedroom and towards the bathroom. He gently opened the door, which was ajar, and closed it softly behind him. Despite all the fear that he felt that was slowly crawling up onto him today, the splashing of the shower on his skin seemed to wash it away as he softly hummed a tune that he had heard on the television yesterday.

Who knew that a little jingle on a commercial could be so catchy?

He wouldn’t usually shower for fifteen minutes, but the jungle and the comfort of the water just washed away the time and he soon found his reverie interrupted by a sharp knock that he door and then his mum calling out, asking if he was alive.

“Yes mum!” Harry shouted, quickly turning off the taps and picking up his towel. “I’m just getting dried and dressed now.”

“Make sure that you brush your teeth and then put your clothe sin the wash and then join me downstairs,” Lily said. “I have a gift for you.”

“Alright.”

“Oh, I love you, Harry, now hurry.”

Harry shook his head and wrapped the towel around his head, drying his hair as he roughly rubbed at it, hoping that his furious drying methods would make it dry quicker. He was debating about using his mum’s hair dryer, not that it would work well on his short hair. He glanced at the other things that his mum had lined up on the shelf near the power point. One was something that his mum said straightened her hair and something curled her hair, which he found odd.

Perhaps it was the fact that he had the same hairstyle since he started school, but that didn’t matter now.

He picked up his toothbrush, which had blue patterns on it and squirted a small amount of toothpaste on it and began brushing his teeth, looking at the mirror which spanned across half the wall. His mum had said that she needed a large mirror to do her makeup and not make any mistakes and that in the future, when he had a wife, he would most likely have one the same size for her.

He did want to say that one day he wished that he would have a wife like his mum, but that felt really odd to even think, let alone say to her, so he remained quiet on that matter.

Wrapping his towel around his waist as he slid over a shirt, drying the bottom half of his body was always an adventure. He would quite often enough wrap the towel around his waist as if it was like what the romans would wear and he would wave his hands around as if he was a solider and slaying dragons and what not.

He stopped doing that after his accidental magic happened and he flooded the room with water when he was trying to help a fellow soldier put out a fire.

He picked up and put his dirty pyjamas into the washing basket, which his mum would take care of in a later stage, was the first thing he did before vacating the bathroom, leaving the fan on so it cleared up the steam. He made his way back into his bedroom, his socked feet slipping over the wood slightly as he moved in his usual manner, which was a slight run.

“Right,” he said to himself as he picked up the little note, crossing out the words ‘get dressed’ and ‘brush teeth’. “Breakfast time, I suppose.”

Harry made his way down the stairs with his cat close behind him, hoping to get breakfast of her own. “Good morning, mum,” he said as soon as he saw her and sat at the table. “Breakfast smells good.”

“Thank you,” Lily said, walking over to the table with two plates, which she set down with a smile. “Before you get to comfortable, it may be wise to feed Lyssa.”

“Oh,” Harry said, standing as quickly as he could. “I’m sorry, Lyssa.”

Lyssa just meowed hungrily and followed the wizard as he made his way over to the cupboard that contained her food.

“Here you go, girl, some nice food for you,” Harry said, placing the small packet of food cat food on his cat’s plate that was put off to the side of the room. He picked up the water bowl and filled that and repeated the action of putting it down before washing his hands and sitting back at the table.

“We’re running behind on schedule,” Lily said, putting bacon on her son’s plate. “But that doesn’t mean that I cannot spoil my little man for his first day of school!”

“I’m eleven!”

Lily just laughed.

* * *

“Have you go everything?” Lily said in a quick tone as she urged her son into the car.

“Yes mum,” Harry replied, putting the trunk into the boot of the car and quickly running around it to sit in the front seat next to his mum. “It all fit into the trunk and I was sure that I left nothing behind.”

“Have you got your wand?”

“I do – uh – here it is,” Harry said, pulling it out of his pocket. “I just forgot which pocket I put it in.”

Lily rolled her eyes and waited for her son to remove the handbrake of the car, which had become a tradition since he was young, and they began driving towards King’s Cross Station, where Harry would experience his first major case of magic by walking through the wall and onto the platform.

“I’m so excited,” Harry said, his eyes looking out the window and at the houses as they flashed by. “Will I be able to write to you at any time?”

“Of course, Harry,” Lily said. “I’ll send the letters from your friends the same day they come. It’ll take a day or two for them to arrive and then another day for them to get back after you sent them, but it’s the best I can do regarding them.”

The drive was over much too quickly for Harry as he slowly climbed out of the car and glanced at the large building know as King’s Cross Station. He did wonder where all the other witches and wizards were and if they were wearing Muggle clothing like him, as it was apparently called. He had been distracted for no less than a second when his mum appeared directly in front of him with a white trolley.

“You can put your trunk on this.”

Harry lifted his trunk and put it on the trolley and watched in amusement as his mum lifted the cage that contained Lyssa, which she wasn’t too thrilled about, and placed it next to his trunk. “It’s alright, Lyssa,” he said. “You’ll be out of their soon.”

Lyssa meowed happily and soon enough sat down and slept as she was moving along with her human.

“I’m a bit surprised Molly isn’t here yet,” Lily said, looking around for said woman. “Although, with five children to get ready, four of those attending the school, it would take a while.”

“Ron takes ages to get ready,” Harry said, remember the boy from their very few visits. “He’s worse than me.”

“No one is as bad as you Harry,” Lily said, chuckling. “I’m sure if you could, you would sleep all day.”

“I usually get up in the morning,” Harry defended. “Anything earlier than 11:59am is considered morning.”

Lily rolled her eyes and gently steered the trolley that her son was pushing towards the correct direction. “Almost there.”

“You’re gonna come through with me, right?”

“I really wish you wouldn’t say that word,” Lily muttered. “And yes, I’ll be going through with you and seeing you off on the train.”

“What word? Gonna?”

“Yes,” Lily said, stopping just outside the wall. “It’s going to.”

“Okay, mum,” Harry said, staring at the wall. “I walk at that? Is this a prank?”

“You need to run at it,” Lily said, feigning amusement. “The entire area is covered in a ward and has been for centuries. They believe that pipes and such run through the wall that we’re currently standing in.”

“Interesting,” Harry said, more fascinated with the fact that no Muggles could ever get into this area. He didn’t even think as he, as if on autopilot, ran at the wall and walked straight through it, as if it was a silky curtain. “Woah.”

“Indeed,” Lily said, passing through the wall and guiding her son out of the way before someone else ran straight into his back. “That’s the Hogwarts Express.”

Harry turned and looked at the rather large, scarlet train with awe. Steam poured out from the train and a loud noise was heard shortly afterwards. It was, in some sense, hard to see any detail on the train due to the hundreds of witches and wizards standing around it, waving at it. He slowly followed his mum, getting the occasional glimpse of someone waving out of the windows.

“Wasn’t as early as I had hoped,” Lily said. “But driving did that instead of just Apparating here.”

“Oh well,” Harry said, ignoring the dread in his stomach. His mum wanted to get him here early so he could make friends before he went to Hogwarts, that way he wouldn’t be alone at all.

“I better not keep you, dear,” Lily said, engulfing her son in a tight hug. “Hop on the train with your trunk and Lyssa and make some friends!”

With a quick yet loving goodbye, Harry soon found his way onto the train and into a compartment that was empty. Sadly the compartment was facing the other side of the station and he couldn’t wave to his mum. The almost ten minutes of hugging was enough, at least in his eyes.

He was still alone when the train began moving and he quickly got Lyssa and began to pat her to release some of his nervousness. Of course, Lyssa hated the moving train and did the same as him and sought out her human for cuddles and to be pet.

Harry jolted on the spot when he heard the door click and begin to slide open. He quickly looked upwards, ceasing his continued petting of Lyssa, who meowed unhappily at the lack of contact. The loud and excited voices carried into his compartment from the corridor. He watched in silence as a tall boy with soft brown hair and slightly darker brown eyes stepped into the compartment.

“Ah,” the boy said, pausing just at the door. “I didn’t think that anyone was in here, to be honest.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, curious on why the taller boy was in his compartment to begin with. “I hope that this isn’t your main compartment.”

“You don’t mind do you?”

Harry was unsure on what the boy meant. “Do you want me to leave?” he asked softly, his voice only just reaching the other boy. He didn’t really wish to go and find another compartment, especially now that they could all be full. “I can leave if you want the compartment to yourself.”

“Oh!” the boy said, a surprised look on his face. “You didn’t see me point at the door? I meant to ask if you minded if I stayed with you.”

“No, no. No, I don’t,” Harry said, happy that he wasn’t going to be kicked out. “This is my cat, Lyssa,” he said lamely, unsure on how to actually start a conversation with this boy.

The boy swiftly moved and sat down, directly across from the other boy with his cat and looked at the cat with a tender smile. “She looks a little like you, black hair and green eyes,” he said as he pushed out his hand and gently stroked the cat behind her ears. “So, now that I know your kitten’s name, may I know yours?”

“I’m Harry,” Harry said, a small smile on his face as he spoke. “Harry Potter.”

“Oh,” the boy said, his facial expression remaining the same. “Well then, Harry – may I call you Harry?”

Harry nodded in agreement.

“Excellent,” the boy said. “Well then, Harry, my name is Cedric, Cedric Diggory. You can call me Cedric, it’s only fair.”

Harry had to fight the smile that was threatening to appear on his face as he leaned forwards and shook Cedric’s hand. He realised that Cedric had a rather powerful grip, at least compared to his. “It’s good to meet you, Cedric.”

“Likewise,” Cedric said, smiling. “I’m sorry for just barging in, but I did think it was empty and that no one was in it. Most pull down the curtain if they’re seeking privacy, like this.”

Harry watched as Cedric waved his wand and the curtains pulled downwards, submerging the small compartment in slight darkness until the lights on the wall slowly flickered to life, renewing the light. “That was awesome!” he said, looking at Cedric with awe.

“My friends are fawning over some boy with a huge spider and that hardly interested me,” Cedric muttered. “What about you? Any reason you’re sitting alone?”

Harry muttered under his breath, wanting to be honest, but not wanting Cedric to make fun of him.

“What was that?” Cedric said, a smile on his face. “I only know English and some Latin, I’m afraid. I don’t understand muttering.”

Harry let out a nervous laugh. “I don’t have any friends,” he said quickly, his voice clear.

It took a little while for Cedric to put it together and he visibly relaxed around the boy. “You don’t need to worry about that, Harry. I’d guess you were a Muggleborn, but I know you’re a Potter and that means you’re a half-blood and your mum snatched you away and took you to the Muggle world – according to the Daily Prophet, at least.”

“A newspaper reported on my family?” Harry asked, surprised.

“Of course!” Cedric said, chuckling. “My dad raves on about it to this day.”

“Good things, I hope.”

“My dad was behind your dad, at least that’s what he says,” Cedric said. “He said that it takes a real man to defend their family and that the punishment that he got was harsh. My mum wishes that your mum came to us, though.”

“Our families were friends?” Harry asked. “I had no idea.”

“From what mum said, hardly. But we’d welcome anyone with open arms,” Cedric said.

“I still cannot believe your friends are fawning over a large spider,” Harry mused. “It seems so silly, doesn’t it? Fawning over something highly lethal.”

“Exactly,” Cedric said, relived that someone saw it from his perspective. “At home, we have a ward that discourages any insects from entering our house. It won’t hurt them or kill them, instead it tells them to go the other way as danger is in that direction. Mum’s absolutely terrified of spiders. Dad thinks they’re really creepy and you couldn’t pay him to pick one up, but he doesn’t mind them much.”

Harry eagerly listened in as Cedric explained his house and the ward that surrounded it and even the fears that he and his parents shared. He heard some banging on the compartment door and the muttering of a toad before it vanished. He couldn’t bring himself to care about that, especially when he was learning so much about Cedric and his life.

“Dad was in Hufflepuff,” Cedric said, a smile on his face. “Most of the Diggory boys are. Mum, however, was a Ravenclaw and was an ace at anything regarding warding, hence the ward that repels spiders and insects – mainly spiders.”

“Wow,” Harry breathed. “Your family is awesome. You got in Hufflepuff as well?”

“Yep, I’m in my third-year,” Cedric said. “Dad was so happy when he learned that I was following in his footsteps.”

“I’m not sure where I’ll go,” Harry admitted. “Mum says she’ll be happy no matter where I land.”

“Don’t think too much of it, Harry,” Cedric said, pausing as the whistle on the train blew. “It’s hard to believe that we’ve been talking for almost five hours.”

“The sure flies when you’re having fun,” Harry said, enjoying the laugh that Cedric let out at the exclamation.

“You best get changed into your robes,” Cedric said. “I assume we’ll be there soon, in about twenty minutes, actually.”

“Right,” Harry said, gently nudging Lyssa off his lap. “Do I just get changed in here?”

Cedric raised an eyebrow. “Kicking me out, are you?” He asked with a smirk. “You can either get changed in the compartment or the toilets. Most go to the toilets, but others get changed in the compartments, due to laziness and the fact you don’t need to carry an armful of clothes around.”

“No, no,” Harry said, standing. “I was just curious. I wouldn’t kick you out.”

“I doubt you want me staring at you when you change, so I’ll just go stand outside.”

Harry watched him leave the room with a smile and he quickly got up and dug through his trunk, finding the clothes that he needed. He yanked off his t-shirt and put on the white collar shirt that was required, along with the grey v-neck sweater. Stumbling over his feet he successfully pulled off his shoes and shorts and replaced them with a pair of grey trousers and squishing his feet into a pair of plain black shoes.

The Hogwarts outfit was rather similar to the one he sued to wear, which was great, at least according to him.

He slid open the door and gestured Cedric back in as he fastened his cloak around his shoulders.

“You look like you just ran a marathon,” Cedric said as he watched the boy push everything back into his trunk. “You didn’t have to rush and get on your clothe sin two minutes. I would have waited.”

“It’s alright,” Harry said, watching the amused expression on Cedric’s face grow wider. “I’m used to dressing quickly. It was the payoff for waking up later than I had to.”

Cedric laughed and shook his head. He dove straight into another story as the train slowly crawled to a stop at Hogsmeade station.

Harry was nervous, especially when Cedric had told him that he had to go across water. “I don’t like large masses of water,” he admitted softly. “I’m scared of drowning.”

“You cannot swim?” Cedric asked.

Harry shook his head. “Nope,” he said, just as soft as before. “Tried to learn once, but it was a failure.”

“You cannot come with me,” Cedric said, more to himself than Harry. “Not that I don’t want you to, it’s just that your journey takes a little longer and that’s so you enter the Great Hall after all of us.”

“Oh.”

“Come with me, I’ll introduce you to someone that’d be glad to aid you across the water and probably into the school as well.”

Harry followed Cedric through the compartments, his eyes catching glimpses of other students. Eventually they stopped at a compartment that had the door slightly open.

Cedric opened it fully, after knocking. “Ernie,” he said, snapping the attention towards him and Harry. “This is Harry, he grew up in the Muggle world and needs a guide.”

Harry stood behind Cedric and slowly poked his head around the boy. “Hello,” he said, peeking into the compartment that had three people in it.

“Hiya,” said the black-haired boy next to the boy called Ernie. “I’m Justin.”

“I’m Hannah, Hannah Abbott,” Hannah said, smiling. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Harry.”

“I’m Ernest Macmillan,” Ernest said, wincing at his own name. “Please call me Ernie, though.”

Harry greeted them all shyly, still cowering behind Cedric, who was rather tall for being a third-year. He had etched their names into his head and made sure to remember them.

“Right,” Cedric said, smiling. “I’m going to head towards the carriages and meet up with my friends. Good luck, Harry.”

“Is that your cat?” Hannah asked, looking at the black kitten. “She’s beautiful!”

“Do I – do I just leave her here? I don’t think she’d appreciate going across the water.”

“House-elves will take here across the water and into the castle, along with your luggage,” Ernie said. “Least that’s what dad said.”

Ernie was correct and Lyssa was placed into a cage and transported across the lake with all other luggage. Someone, somewhere, had yelled about four people to a boat and that set off Ernie and Hannah, who looked frantic, the former tugging Harry along as they jogged through the small, slippery path and finally caught up with the other people, who were stepping into boats.

Harry slowly climbed into the boat, the damn thing shifted and he almost screamed and jolted out of it. It was only his dedication to not look like a fool that made him slowly climb in. Ernie climbed into next to him and that left Hannah and Justin the spot at the front, which Harry was glad.

The large man roared for the boats to move forwards and the rows of boats started moving towards the large castle, much like a fleet of ships.

The boat rocked and Harry grabbed onto Ernie’s arm. “Sorry,” he muttered when he realised what he had done. “I don’t like boats.”

Hannah laughed. “I used to be scared of the water as well,” she admitted, already knowing what the boy was talking about. “I was thrown into a lake by my sister and I almost drown. Thankfully mum saved me, but I never went in water that deep again.”

“Wow,” Harry said shakily, he focused on the back of Justin, who was sitting in front of him. “I cannot swim, so I avoid any form of mass of water.”

Ernie, who was still looking amused at the fact the boy still was holding his arm remained silent and just enjoyed the shaky ride of the boats. Of course, some boy fell out of the boats and was pushed back in by the squid, which made the boy hold on tighter, knowing that he could fall out.

Fortunately for Harry, the boat ride stopped shortly afterwards and he was helped out of the boat by Ernie, who still had an amused expression on his face. They walked up a flight of steps, which was followed by another and another until they were at a large black door.

“Welcome to Hogwarts, Harry,” Ernie said softly. “You as well, Justin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to follow the Hogwarts outfit from the third-year movies. It's more flexible rather than the one in the books.
> 
> Enjoy. :)


	6. The Sorting Ceremony

Spur of the Moment

By ModernDayWeeaboo

Chapter Six: The Sorting Ceremony

***

The black door swung open and Harry carefully peered into the brightly lit room, hoping to see something exciting and magical. So far he had seen a train that moved on rails instead of flying across the open sea and a fleet of boats that were about as impressive as watching paint dry. Destroying his hope of flying things, magic fountains and anything else, he found the hallway to represent an ordinary medieval castle, one that could be found in any number of children’s books.

“What’s got you looking so glum?” Ernie whispered, noticing the rather dull look on the boy’s face.

“This isn’t what I expected,” Harry replied, forcing his eyes from the ordinary looking Entrance Hall. “I was expecting ghosts, people flying and all sorts of magical stuff.”

Ernie shuddered at the mention of ghosts. “Did you think they’d have it all on display at once?” he said cheerfully. “Nah, you’ll get to experience it over the seven years.”

Harry didn’t argue because had had seen magic and knew what could be done with it, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t want to experience more and see all that he could before he went home for the holiday. He had been so lost in his inner reverie that he hadn’t noticed the stern looking professor staring at him with what appeared to be an unappreciated look.

“The firs’-years, Professor McGonagall.”

Harry jumped at the loud voice, which appeared to come from directly next to him. He wondered if this man was like an ogre or a giant or something. The only comical thing about the large man was the fact he had some sort of pink umbrella tucked in his vest and frequently pulled it out for some reason.

“Thank you, Hagrid,” The stern looking woman replied, her lips pursued. “I can take them from here.”

Harry followed after the professor, attempting to keep up with her long strides as they walked throughout various different hallways and corridors that were lit up by torches and had suits of armour almost glittering due to the light below them. He was so last in his studying of the suits of armour that he had no idea that the small group of eleven year old students had abruptly stopped and he crashed into the back of a rather stocky female.

“Watch it,” the girl hissed as she spun around, glaring.

“Sorry!” Harry said, looking around for Ernie, his assigned bodyguard and teacher for the magical world. Perhaps it was a bad thing to find one person and cling to them, but Cedric had said it was wise and that Ernie would show him around and he hadn’t yet explored even point one percent of the castle.

“Harry,” Ernie snickered, trying to pull the clueless boy closer towards him so he didn’t offend anymore of the future Slytherin students. The last thing that Harry needed was to make enemies before school even started. “Stay next to me before you get lost.”

Harry nodded at the whispered words and looked back up towards the stern looking professor, who still had the same facial expression she had when they had stepped foot in the castle. He was, in some sense, thankful that he had Ernie to lookout for him and his somewhat clumsiness.

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” Professor McGonagall said, her eyes went over each student until they landed on what appeared to be the perfect replica of James Potter, besides the eyes. She almost sighed and prayed that Lily would have taught him how to behave but that was forgotten when she took in his appearance. It was quite a shock to learn that the son of James Potter was actually afraid instead of beaming with mischief. ‘Thank Merlin,’ she thought as she turned back to the students, ready to give them the introductory speech.

Harry listened as Professor McGonagall explained the creation of Hogwarts, the four founders and what their goals with the school were. He watched the small group of students to see how they would react. A fair few were excited when Godric Gryffindor was mentioned and they all seemed to slap Neville on the shoulder and proclaim that that’s where he was going; Rowena Ravenclaw got a few titters and excited whispering; Helga Hufflepuff got a smile from Ernie and a few others and Salazar Slytherin got a few snorts and whispers of the greatness the man did.

“So,” Harry started, whispering towards Ernie. “How are we sorted into houses?”

Ernie gave Harry an unimpressed look, the third time that day. “How many times have you asked that now, Harry?”

“Like three,” Harry said, his cheeks turning pink. “I asked my mum heaps and she refused to tell me, stating that it was a tradition that wouldn’t be broken with me.”

“Exactly!” Ernie said, glad that Harry’s mum at least had some common sense. “It’s a tradition to remain a secret until the very last moment, Harry.”

“I wonder why…” Harry muttered, trailing off with the thought as the small group of soon-to-be first-years were left alone in the room with no instructions besides to smarten themselves up. “How do we smarten ourselves up? All my books are on the train.”

“I don’t know,” Ernie said, just as confused.

“You two are going to give me headaches,” Justin muttered. “She means to make ourselves look presentable.”

“Why didn’t she just say that?” Hannah said.

“It’s a saying that old people use…”

Harry choked on his breath as Justin began describing the saying and what it meant. “Professor McGonagall is staring at you, Justin.”

“Probably because he just described her as being old,” Hannah whispered, not even caring about Justin. “I’m sure if he was already sorted the professor would’ve taken points and given him a detention.”

Harry snickered and followed the irate looking professor into the Great Hall, which had the first signs of magic that he saw. The roof of the Great Hall was covered in slightly darkening clouds, almost replicating the same sky just above him. Candles floated harmlessly in the air, just below the enchanted roof and flickered brightly when the new students had entered. He noticed four different coloured cylinders which contained nothing in them at the moment, but they appeared to track some sort of points for each house.

Glancing upwards at what appeared to be the professor’s table, he smiled at each one of them as he glanced over them, making sure that he would remember who they were and what they taught, that way he could learn without issue. He saw a plump, friendly looking witch who just beamed at him, as if thanking him for the smile and gesturing discreetly for him to pay attention to Professor McGonagall, who was speaking.

She wasn’t really speaking, being honest, but she was dragging a stool and an ugly looking hat across the raised platform and set it in the center.

Harry was momentarily startled when the thing started to move on its own and cleared a raspy voice, which it then apologised for, stating that it hadn’t had much time for idle conversation. He watched the hat, his mouth slightly open, as it introduced itself as the Sorting Hat. “What the –”

“Wicked!” Ron said, peering at the hat.

“Imagine if it started conjuring fireballs,” Justin said softly to Harry. “Wouldn’t that be something else?”

“If it does, I’m blaming you.”

The Sorting Hat did no such thing. However, it did burst into song, much to the shock of Harry, who was still gaping at the Sorting Hat.

“ _Oh, you may not think I’m pretty,_  
_But don’t judge on what you see,_  
_I’ll eat myself if you can find_  
_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_  
_Your top hats sleek and tall,_  
_For I’m the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_  
_And I can cap them all._

_There’s nothing hidden in your head_  
_The Sorting Hat can’t see,_  
_So try me on and I will tell you_  
_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_  
_Where dwell the brave at heart,_  
_Their daring, nerve and chivalry_  
_Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_  
_Where they are just and loyal,_  
_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_  
_And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_  
_If you’ve a ready mind,_  
_Where those of wit and learning,_  
_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_  
_You’ll make your real friends,_  
_Those cunning folk use any means_  
_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don’t be afraid!_  
_And don’t get in a flap!_  
_You’re in safe hands (though I have none)_  
_For I’m a Thinking Cap_!”

Harry automatically clapped along with the rest of the Great Hall, it was the least he could for such an inspiring song that he help him greatly in the house that he wished to be in. He was somewhat confused at the Hufflepuff song as toil could mean many things. “What happens if we possess none of those things?” he asked Ernie, who had a wide smile on his face. “Do they kick us out or something?”

“Nah,” Ernie simply replied, “‘though, a lot say that anyone with no talents go into Hufflepuff, but don’t repeat that or you’ll get an earful from the ‘Puffs.”

“Alright,” Harry said, “thanks.”

“When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted,” Professor McGonagall said, holding a rather lengthy piece of parchment that almost rolled down towards the floor. “Abbott, Hannah!”

Hannah gave Harry, Justin and Ernie a rather forced smile and quickly walked towards Professor McGonagall, slightly pink-faced.

“HUFFLEPUFF!” shouted the hat.

That startled Harry. How did the Sorting Hat know where you belonged?

“Bones, Susan!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Boot, Terry!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Brocklehurst, Mandy!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Brown, Lavender!”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

“Bulstrode, Millicent!”

“SLYTHERIN!”

“Corner, Michael!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Cornfoot, Stephen!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Crabbe, Vincent!”

“SLYTHERIN!”

“Davis, Tracey!”

“SLYTHERIN!”

Harry watched in fascination as each student shifted off towards their appropriate tables and were greeted fiercely.

“Entwhistle, Kevin!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Finch-Fletchley, Justin!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

So far Harry had seen Hannah and Justin both go towards Hufflepuff, which also had Cedric, who was sitting there with a smile on his face greeting each new person.

“Finnigan, Seamus!”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

“Goldstein, Anthony!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Goyle, Gregory!”

“SLYTHERIN!”

“Granger, Hermione!”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

“Greengrass, Daphne!”

“SLYTHERIN!”

“Hopkins, Wayne!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Jones, Megan!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Li, Sue!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Longbottom, Neville!”

Harry quickly learned that whispers broke out across all the tables and excited chatter began. He also saw that every student had craned their heads to get a better look at the saviour, which he didn’t understand, but didn’t question it either.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

The applause from the Gryffindor table was deafening.

“MacDougal, Isobel!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“MacDougal, Morag!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Macmillan, Ernest!”

Harry snickered at the fact the Sorting Hat used his proper birth name and watched as Ernie slowly made his way towards the Sorting Hat, a determined expression present on his face.

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Malfoy, Draco!”

“SLYTHERIN!”

“Malone, Roger!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Moon, Lily!”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

“Nott, Theodore!”

“SLYTHERIN!”

“Parkinson, Pansy!”

“SLYTHERIN!”

“Patil, Padma!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Patil, Parvati!”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

“Perks, Sally-Anne!”

“SLYTHERIN!”

“Potter, Harry!”

Harry let out a breath and quickly walked towards the stool with the Sorting Head that was nested on it. He did wonder where he would go and if he would make friends or not. It was rather nerve breaking, not knowing where you would go, especially with Justin, Hannah, Ernie and Cedric all in one house.

Bravely, he sat down on the stool and allowed the hat to be dropped onto his head.

“I see, I see!” the Sorting Hat said softly. “Don’t be frightened, child. You’re in a school for magic and yet you flinch when I begin speaking?”

“Sorry!”

“If I had eyes, child, what do you think I would be doing with them?”

“Rolling them?” Harry asked, unsure of what the hat would do if it had eyes. “At least that’s what I would be doing.”

“Precisely,” the Sorting Hat said. “Now, I already know where I want you to go – knew it from the moment I was placed on your head.”

Harry swallowed, part in nervousness and in relief. “Where do you think I could go?”

“You’re quite cunning, but you lack the ambition to utilise that cunning that you have,” the Sorting Hat said. “You were quite prepared to bribe me into placing you into Hufflepuff with your friends. Highly Slytherin of you.”

“Sorry!”

“Stop apologising, lad,” the Sorting Hat muttered. “I think Gryffindor and Ravenclaw are out. You’re loyal, but not Gryffindor level of loyal-ness. I dare say the mind on you isn’t too bad either… but once again, you lack the trait to actually use the wisdom that you’ve learned.”

There was a silence that could have been broken by the slightest shift.

“Where would you have wanted to go, assuming you hadn’t met Cedric, Justin, Hannah, or Ernie?”

“I’m not sure,” Harry admitted, sadly. “Anywhere I could have made friends and not where I would be harshly judged because of the colour on my robes…”

“There’s only one place for you, boy,” the Sorting Hat said. “HUFFLEPUFF!”

Harry almost charged off the seat and sprinted towards his house’s table, hoping that he could snag a seat next to Ernie and Hannah, who appeared to be clapping enthusiastically, alongside Cedric.

“You were sitting there for ages,” Ernie said the moment Harry had sat down. “I think Dumbledore was muttering about a Hatstall!”

“What’s that?” Harry asked, watching as the sorting began again.

“I’ll tell you after!”

“Rivers, Oliver!” called Professor McGonagall.

“RAVENCLAW!” shouted the hat.

“Roper, Sophie!”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

“Smith, Sally!”

“SLYTHERIN!”

“Smith, Zacharias!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Thomas, Dean!”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

“Turpin, Lisa!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Weasley, Ronald!”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

“Zabini, Blaise!”

“SLYTHERIN!”

“So,” Harry said once the last boy was sitting. “What’s a Hatstall?”

Ernie sighed and then chuckled. “A term used when the sorting of one student was longer than five minutes. You were sitting there for seven minutes.”

“Didn’t feel like seven minutes,” Harry muttered. “I was so nervous that it felt like only seconds had gone by.”

“I think that explains everyone’s experience, Harry,” Cedric said, slipping into a seat next to the small first-years. “I had a feeling you would land in Hufflepuff.”

“A feeling?” Harry repeated, unsure of how the boy knew.

“Yeah,” Cedric replied cryptically before gesturing towards the headmaster, who was standing there with a smile on his face, his hand outstretched and facing towards the students. “Get ready for something exciting!”

“Ahem – just a few more words now we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you,” Dumbledore said, his tone cheerful. “First-years should note that the forest in the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well.”

Dumbledore’s twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins.

“I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.”

Harry was nodding along to the slight rules that were presented, knowing that using magic in the corridors would be forbidden regardless.

“Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch,” Dumbledore said, still just as cheerfully, but the twinkle in his eyes slightly vanished. “And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death.”

“That was the exciting news?” Harry asked, confused. “Is that some sort of joke?”

“He must be,” Hannah said softly. “Despite his odd sense of humour, I doubt he’d joke about something as serious death.”

“I’m not sure whether to be surprised or upset,” Harry muttered. “Mum never said anything about death being an option.”

“Look,” Cedric said instantly, “let’s make a vow, not an Unbreakable Vow, of course, that we won’t go near that corridor, no matter what.”

“Suits me,” Harry said, nodding in agreement. “I don’t wish to die at all, let alone a painful death.”

The four first-years and single third-year made an agreement at that very moment that none of them would be foolish enough to check what was on the third-floor corridor. Up the table, he noticed a few of the older students discussing the corridor and how none of the Prefects had been informed of the matter and that it was news to them.

“And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!” Dumbledore said, stopping all chatter in the room.

Harry noticed that every professor’s smile seemed strained, even the plump witch that kept smiling at him.

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick as if he was trying to get a fly off the end and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself snake-like into words. “Everyone pick their favourite tune,” Dumbledore said, “and off we go!”

And the school bellowed:

“ _Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,_  
_Teach us something please,_  
_Whether we be old and bald_  
_Or young with scabby knees,_  
_Our heads could do with filling_  
_With some interesting stuff,_  
_For now they’re bare and full of air,_  
_Dead flies and bits of fluff,_  
_So teach us things worth knowing,_  
_Bring back what we’ve forgot,_  
_Just do your best, we’ll do the rest,_  
_And learn until our brains all rot_.”

Harry hadn’t had a single idea on whether he should sing along or clap or just stand there awkwardly. He wasn’t a talented singer and someone choking probably sounded more musically inclined than him trying to hit a note. He couldn’t help but smile when he realised that Cedric had been putting some effort into singing and that got him singing along the last two lines of the song, which he awarded him a smile from Hannah, Ernie and Cedric.

He looked around and realised that quite a few people were still singing, especially on the Gryffindor table. He listened as the Weasley twins, who he had the misfortune to meet multiple times, finished the last few verses at the pace of a funeral march, which came off rather morbid.

“Ah, music,” Dumbledore said, wiping his eyes. “A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!”

Harry watched as the three other tables all stood at the same time and began walking from the Great Hall. The Hufflepuff table seemed to remain seated for some unknown reason.

“Hello,” the plump woman said, appearing out of nowhere. “I’m Professor Sprout.”

“Good evening, Professor Sprout!” the table said in reply.

“I’m the Head of Hufflepuff house and the Herbology professor,” Professor Sprout said. “While the other houses tend to have prefects lead the way as the Heads of Houses tend to try and get to their rooms as quickly as possible to begin preparing their lessons, Hufflepuff works a little different to them. My office and personal room is attached to the common room, therefore I’ll have to tag along regardless.”

Harry listened as Professor Sprout explained the reasoning behind that and he couldn’t but think it was a good idea, especially with so many homesick first-year students.

“Before we head off towards the common room, does anyone have any questions?”

No one had any questions for that period, which could been explained by the tired faces of those to sleepy to think about anything at the present time. Harry had a lot of questions, but he didn’t want to be the first to ask one and some of his were about the students, such as the pink-haired girl at the back who had just tripped over the stool and landed on the floor with a loud thump.

“Right,” Professor Sprout said, “Mr. Truman, it’s your turn to do the introductory speech for the first-years and then we’ll set off towards our common room.”

Gabriel Truman, a prefect, stepped up to the front of the Great Hall, just in front of Professor Sprout, and smiled down at all the new and old students. His light-brown hair was windblown for the carriage ride and his attempts at fixing it just made it worse. “Congratulations! I’m Prefect Gabriel Truman, and I’m delighted to welcome you to Hufflepuff house. Our emblem is the badger, an animal that is often underestimated, because it lives quietly until attacked, but which, when provoked, can fight off animals much larger than itself, including wolves. Our house colours are yellow and black, and our common room lies one floor below the ground, on the same corridor as the kitchens.

“Now, there are a few things you should know about Hufflepuff house. First of all, let’s deal with a perennial myth about the place, which is that we’re the least clever house. _Wrong_. Hufflepuff is certainly the least boastful house, but we’ve produced just as many brilliant witches and wizards as any other. Want proof? Look up Grogan Stump, one of the most popular Ministers for Magic of all time. He was a Hufflepuff – as were the successful Ministers Artemesia Lufkin and Dugald McPhail. Then there’s the world authority on magical creatures, Newt Scamander; Bridget Wenlock, the famous thirteenth-century Arithmancer who first discovered the magical properties of the number seven, and Hengist of Woodcroft, who founded the all-wizarding village of Hogsmeade, which lies very near Hogwarts School. Hufflepuffs all.

“So, as you can see, we’ve produced more than our fair share of powerful, brilliant and daring witches and wizards, but, just because we don’t shout about it, we don’t get the credit we deserve. Ravenclaws, in particular, assume that any outstanding achiever must have come from their house. I got into big trouble during my third year for duelling a Ravenclaw prefect who insisted that Bridget Wenlock had come from his house, not mine. I should have got a week of detentions, but Professor Sprout let me off with a warning and a box of coconut ice.

“Hufflepuffs are trustworthy and loyal. We don’t shoot our mouths off, but cross us at your peril; like our emblem, the badger, we will protect ourselves, our friends and our families against all-comers. Nobody intimidates us.

“However, it’s true that Hufflepuff is a bit lacking in one area. We’ve produced the fewest Dark wizards of any house in this school. Of course, you’d expect Slytherin to churn out evil-doers, seeing as they’ve never heard of fair play and prefer cheating over hard work any day, but even Gryffindor – the house we get on best with – has produced a few dodgy characters.

“What else do you need to know? Oh yes, the entrance to the common room is concealed in a stack of large barrels in a nook on the right hand side of the kitchen corridor. Tap the barrel two from the bottom, middle of the second row, in the rhythm of ‘Helga Hufflepuff’, and the lid will swing open.

“We are the only house at Hogwarts that also has a repelling device for would-be intruders. If the wrong lid is tapped, or if the rhythm of the tapping is wrong, the illegal entrant is doused in vinegar.

“You will hear other houses boast of their security arrangements, but it so happens that in more than a thousand years, the Hufflepuff common room and dormitories have never been seen by outsiders. Like badgers, we know exactly how to lie low – and how to defend ourselves.

“Once you’ve opened the barrel, crawl inside and along the passageway behind it, and you will emerge into the cosiest common room of them all. It is round and earthy and low-ceilinged; it always feels sunny, and its circular windows have a view of rippling grass and dandelions.

“There is a lot of burnished copper about the place, and many plants, which either hang from the ceiling or sit on the windowsills. Our Head of house, Professor Pomona Sprout, is Head of Herbology, and she brings the most interesting specimens – some of which dance and talk – to decorate our room – one reason why Hufflepuffs are often very good at Herbology. Our overstuffed sofas and chairs are upholstered in yellow and black, and our dormitories are reached through round doors in the walls of the common room. Copper lamps cast a warm light over our four-posters, all of which are covered in patchwork quilts, and copper bed warmers hang on the walls, should you have cold feet.

“Our house ghost is the friendliest of them all: the Fat Friar. You’ll recognise him easily enough; he’s plump and wears monk’s robes, and he’s very helpful if you get lost or are in any kind of trouble.

“I think that’s nearly everything. I must say, I hope some of you are good Quidditch players. Hufflepuff hasn’t done as well as I’d like in the Quidditch tournament lately.

“You should sleep comfortably. We’re protected from storms and wind down in our dormitories; we never have the disturbed nights those in the towers sometimes experience.

“And once again: congratulations on becoming a member of the friendliest, most decent and most tenacious house of them all.”

The sound of clapping echoed throughout the Great Hall and then the chuckling of Professor Sprout echoed afterwards. “You silly boy,” she said, laughing. “You weren’t meant to memorise all of it, just the key parts!”

Gabriel Truman gave the professor a sheepish look and looked at the floor. “It saves them reading the board in the common room, at least.”

“Assuming they remember all of it,” a fifth-year said, chuckling. “You overloaded them with information before the first day even began.”

“Sadly,” Professor Sprout said, “you’ll be getting a fair amount of repeat information as Mr. Truman spoiled half of the information I was going to give on the way to our common room! Come along, now.”

Harry chuckled along with everyone else and followed his Head of House towards the direction what he assumed to be the Hufflepuff common room. He followed as they looped around and found themselves stopping at an odd painting, which appeared to be a bowl of fruit.

“This is the entrance to the kitchens,” Professor Sprout said cheerfully. “The House-Elves would be more than grateful to aid you in filling up your stomachs if you’re ever hungry between mealtimes. I shall leave the method into getting in until another time as I cannot see many of you being that hungry at the moment.”

Harry nodded, not feeling up to eating anything at the moment. He followed along and stopped along with Ernie and Cedric at what appeared to be the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room.

“Does anyone remember the sequence to get in?” Professor Sprout asked.

Harry realised that none of the older years spoke and he assumed it was asked at then first-years. He slowly rose his hand and felt his cheeks turn slightly pink when Professor Sprout looked at him with beaming eyes. “You tap the barrel two from the bottom, middle of the second row, in the rhythm of Helga Hufflepuff and the barrel will swing open,” he repeated the words that Gabriel Truman had said earlier.

“Very good!” Professor Sprout praised, tapping the barrels in the said order and allowing the students entrance. “Crawl on through.”

Harry dropped onto his hands and knees and scurried across the ground, following behind Ernie, who appeared to be giggling at the thought of crawling to get into the common room. He did wonder if they were getting in wrong, especially when Professor Sprout started chuckling and muttered ‘oh dear’ as the first-years entered the common room.

He glanced up and was met with a white roof that was supported by three large wooden beams, each beam had some plants hanging from it and circular windows adorned the circular room. He realised that the prefect was correct and that the room appeared to be surprisingly comfortable.

“We’ll talk early in the morning at seven sharp,” Professor Sprout said happily.

Gabriel Truman took over and directed the first-year boys towards their dormitory and watched as they all grabbed clothes and vanished into the attached lavatory, which amused him greatly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse for why this took a month for me to post. It was completed nearly three weeks ago and I didn’t want to post it until I was about midway through the next chapter, that way you wouldn’t have to wait long and I have currently written 372 words for it. It’s not that I’ve given up or lost my muse for the story as it’s still there and eager to get out, especially once Harry gets a bit older, but I just cannot put what I want onto paper (or Word, in our case) and that annoys and frustrates me.
> 
> As an avid reader of fanfiction and someone who is rather impatient, I fear I have let you guys down, especially considering that you give amazing and constant feedback that I’d never think I’d get, especially considering it’s unbeta’d and there’s bound to be a lot of mistakes.
> 
> *sighs sadly*


	7. Harry’s Favourite Lesson

** Spur of the Moment **

By ModernDayWeeaboo

Chapter Seven: **Harry’s Favourite Lesson**

***

The first week of school was nothing like Harry had assumed it would be. When he first stepped foot into the large castle, he expected something more than what he saw and that was his first thought when he thought about lessons. He assumed that he would have learned the best and most useful magic in the first few lessons that he attended but he was sorely disappointed when that wasn’t even an option. He expected to see a swirl of amazing magic and learn a lot that he could do, such as colour changing spells or spells to make his bed and clean the floor and all kinds of amazing things that would make his everyday life easier.

On the very first night he had confidently informed Ernie and Justin that he could stay up until at least eleven at night, despite the fact that most were getting ready for bed at eight thirty. This led to a competition in the first-year boys’ dormitory that had most of them yawning their way through Monday morning.

Gabriel Truman, the prefect who was assigned to the first-year boys, sent them all a knowing look as he explained the lesson plan and the routine in simple words before asking who won the competition and who the first to fall asleep was.

Everyone in the room had turned and looked towards Harry, who looked to be more awake than anyone else in the room.

That was how Harry found himself making every bed in the dormitory at eight fifteen in the morning, every morning until next Sunday night. It was a thrilling aspect to join in on these competitions and such each week, even if he was angrily tossing quilts over Ernie’s bed and ignoring the boy’s complaints about creases.

Eventually, with five minutes to spare, the beds were made to everyone’s appreciation and the boys soon began to walk down stairs into the Hufflepuff common room, which was filled with various chatter and discussions that seemed to just start in the middle of nowhere. The older girls were intent on discussing their crushes in whispers and the boys did the same, except in a more boyish method.

Harry sat down in the common room on a yellowish looking sofa next to Ernie and Justin, who were discussing Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans and the fact that you should avoid certain colours. He had written to his mum every day so far and each letter was well over two thousand words, not that he had counted. He explained that he had landed in Hufflepuff and that he was making heaps and heaps of friends, claiming that the house was really where he belonged. He asked how she was doing at home and if the house seemed to be silent without him running around as he did every morning.

The most recent letter that he had sent was the longest thing he had ever written and his hand had cramped for hours afterwards, even with the methods that his house mates suggested.

“Harry,” Justin whispered, his eyes narrowed. “Stop picking your nose and listen!”

“I wasn’t picking my nose!”

“I’m sure, Harry,” Ernie snickered and nudged Harry softly. “They were just explaining that as first-years, we won’t be able to join or tryout for the Quidditch team, no exceptions.”

“That’s not fair,” Harry pouted. “What if I wanted to play Quidditch this year?”

“Well tough luck, ‘cause you can’t.”

“Shut up, Justin,” Harry said, smiling. “I’ll do what I please.”

“Oh?” Justin said, something lingering in the undertone of his voice. “Is that because you think you’re a big boy, just ‘cause you can use the big boy toilet?”

“Can you not talk to me as if I’m a baby? I don’t use a ‘big boy toilet’, Justin, I use a regular toilet.”

Justin sent Harry a childish smile and flashed him a row of teeth. “Of course –”

“I apologise for the day,” Professor Sprout said, cutting across all conversations. “We will make our way towards the Great Hall for breakfast shortly but as this is the end of our first week together, I just wanted to inform you that I’m so proud of each and every one of you.”

The praise continued as Professor Spout complimented each person who had earned a large sum of points and then those that earned any points and finally those that had earned none but were trying. Those that had lost points got a stern talking to and if they continued to cost the house points none of them would be going to the Quidditch match, Hufflepuff verse Ravenclaw, which was in around four months.

It was the first time that Harry had seen a ruthless side to the Hufflepuff house, seeing as all week it was hugs and smiles and biscuits in the common room. He spared a discreet glance around the room, not that it was discreet at all, and noticed that a few had their heads bowed, as if apologising for what they had done.

“That’s enough of that, I think,” Professor Sprout said and smiled at the group of students. “Let’s go and get you fed so that you don’t start slacking off just because it’s a Friday.”

The Hufflepuff students trailed after their Head of House as she walked towards the Great Hall. People slowly began their previous conversations, which for Harry meant Justin was being a foul git again and teasing him about how he bathed and used the toilet.

“Why are you so concerned about how he sues the toilet, Justin?” Ernie asked, looking amused. “Maybe you’re looking for advice yourself, so you’re trying to push for it, hm?”

The three boys fell into a bout of giggles and childish laughter at something so irrelevant and childish that it all seemed to fit together. Their laughter had slowly stopped when Cedric caught up with them and sent them curious looks on why they appeared to be crying as they clenched their stomachs and avoided from collapsing into a heap on the stone floor.

“The giggling from you three is telling me that I should avoid you as something devious is going to happen,” Cedric muttered as he stared at each of them individually for a moment. “My curiosity is winning out, though.”

“It’s just something that Ernie said,” Harry said through his clenched teeth, trying not to burst into giggles.

“I see,” Cedric muttered and patiently waited for the three first-years to get a hold of themselves before he questioned them on their subjects. He was rather surprised that they were up early and not lying about in bed until around lunch, which is when their first lesson actually was. “Y’know, when I was a first-year, I made sure to sleep in on any day that I didn’t have lessons until the afternoon for.”

“You can do that?” Harry asked, looking rather agitated that he was dragged awake for lessons when he could have been in bed sleeping and warm. “I hate you, Ernie.”

“You’ll thank me in a few weeks when you’re in routine and don’t stumble into class with your hair a mess and your shirt and pants on backwards because you were sleeping in late.”

“Nah, I don’t think so.”

“You will so.”

Justin rolled his eyes as the two of them bickered and argued about sleeping. In the week that he had known Harry, he had swiftly learned that Harry loved sleep and that the boy could very well sleep all day if he was given permission. AS for Ernie, the boy was an early riser and tended to be the one to wake everyone up as he stumbled around the dormitory, trying to feel his way towards the lavatory.

The four boys continued down the noisy corridors and avoided Peeves, the poltergeist, thanks to Cedric, who knew where the poltergeist tends to annoy students on a Friday morning. They eventually found their way to the Great Hall and all but dived onto the Hufflepuff table, eagerly waiting for the food to appear so they could stuff themselves silly.

“What are you eating?” Ernie asked, curious. “It looks… odd.”

“You look odd!”

“What is it?”

Harry sighed and stabbed at his breakfast. “It’s scrambled egg with small pieces of bacon thrown in it,” he said, giving a shrug as if Ernie should know such things. “How did you not figure out what it was?”

Ernie scowled and gestured towards said meal with a lazy gesture. “I know what scrambled egg is, Harry, I’m not an idiot –”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“– I’m just curious on what the actual dish is called.”

“Fine,” Harry said around a mouthful, ignoring the disgusted look from Justin. “It’s scrambled egg with pieces of bacon in it.”

“Are you serious?” Ernie said, his facial expression set into disbelief. “‘Scrambled egg with pieces of bacon in it.’”

“That’s what I said, Ernie,” Harry said, swallowing a lone piece of bacon that he had speared with his fork. “It also has some cheese in it too, I forgot about that.”

“That changes everything!” Ernie said, glaring. “The cheese completely changes the recipe.”

“Only you could get so worked up over a simple breakfast, Ernie,” Harry muttered, picking up a piece of bread from Ernie’s plate. “It’s honestly just scrambled egg with pieces of bacon cut up and tossed in it with cheese spread over the top.”

“Welcome to our daily morning ritual,” Justin said to Cedric, who was staring at the two with interest. “They’re both kids when it comes to food and what they’re eating. It’s not just Ernie, either, you should’ve seen Harry on the first day regarding breakfast. It was something else.”

“Oh?” Cedric mumbled as he sipped on a glass of pumpkin juice. “Do share.”

Justin took a breath, his eyes flicking towards Harry and Ernie before he smiled at Cedric. “Well, Harry was curious on something so he just took it from Ernie’s plate. You know how he is, just helps himself to your food and juice as if it’s his, anyway, he promptly said it was gross and that Ernie was weird for eating it.”

“Oh dear,” Cedric said, listening as the story continued and little details were exposed and he got a feeling about the two first-years. “Wait, you mean to tell me that he puts chocolate on his sausages?”

“Yeah,” Justin said, screwing up his face as he thought about it some more. “His mum sent them along and he instantly started placing the little balls on his food and ignored anyone who commented on it.”

Harry lifted his head and glanced over towards Cedric and Justin, wondering why they were talking about chocolate. He quickly ducked his head down and refocused on Ernie, who was telling a story about his childhood.

“See,” Justin whispered, “he has this instinct and knows when you-know-what is being talked about.”

The two continued on about Harry’s unhealthy obsession with chocolate, trying desperately to not use the word ‘chocolate’ or laugh to loud, in case they attracted Harry’s attention and he came over to enquire about the joke that had passed between the two.

Cedric listened to the story of how Harry had snuck chocolate into Potions and somehow got away with it in the most amusing way.

“No way,” Cedric said, staring at Justin in disbelief. “He knocked his quill of the desk to hide under the desk to eat a piece of chocolate?”

“He did,” Justin said, grinning. “And not only once. I’m sure Professor Snape assumed his quill was possessed or something as it kept rolling off the table.”

“I’m rather surprised he didn’t take away points for it,” Cedric said, surprise crossing his features. “If anyone else dared to sneak chocolate into potions they would have detention for the rest of their time at Hogwarts.”

“I honestly think that Professor Snape was debating giving him a detention, instead some sort of thoughtful look crossed his face,” Justin whispered. “You know the one where he stares at Longbottom as if he has three heads and is always doing something wrong? He stared at Harry like that. It was odd.”

“You mean the one where the left side of his lips curls into some sort of smirk and then vanishes when he realises people are looking at him?” Cedric asked, looking rather curious. On Justin’s nod, he continued. “I’ve never really seen him use it that often, just heard about it.”

The discussion continued while everyone else did the same, except about a different topic. The first-years that had been a little homesick where now slowly fitting in and picking nervously at the hem of their sleeves. There was a few that were still missing their parents, mostly those that had never really ventured far from home and tended to remain by their parents sides at all times. Funnily enough, it was mainly boys that tended to miss home while the girls were just as wary and frightened, they kept it amongst themselves while boys tended to brag about not missing home and that would cause a few of them to sob.

The Hufflepuff students that missed home tended to rush towards Professor Sprout’s door and ask for comfort. They learned that the woman was so motherly and friendly because she missed her own children, who had their own kids and didn’t visit as much as they should, something about coming to the school felt odd in their eyes.

“Harry,” Ernie said, enjoying the facial expression on Harry’s face as he was interrupted. “Your favourite lesson is in two minutes, so we better get a move on.”

“So what if I like Charms, Ernie,” Harry muttered. “It’s fascinating to learn that you can instantly vanish mess and stuff with a flick of the wand! Plus, we’re gonna be learning about the Levitation Charm a bit more.”

“I don’t think we’ll be practicing that one for a while, Harry,” Ernie said. “We only just started reading notes and practicing the movements.”

* * *

Harry sat at the end of one of the tables for Charms. He had no one on his left, but Ernie and Justin were to his right, happily talking about the Levitation Charm, much like the rest of the class while they waited for the professor, who was Professor Flitwick, a short little man who was more cheerful than half of Hogwarts combined.

“Imagine how easy it would be to get dressed if we could just levitate our clothes to us,” Harry said, thinking of all the possibilities of such a useful spell. “We wouldn’t even have to get out of bed to look for stuff.”

Ernie looked somewhat excited about the spell, just not for the same reasons as Harry. “Honestly, Harry, I’m sure that getting up and picking up a shirt isn’t _too_ much for you, Harry.”

“It is,” Harry said, smirking, “although, it won’t be soon as I’ll get this spell the first time when we try it. Just watch and see.”

“Just like your first potions essay?”

“Shut up, Justin,” Harry replied, frowning. “How was I meant to know where a bezoar was found? I don’t even know what a bezoar is!”

“It’s in Magical Drafts and Potions, which you should’ve finished reading by the third night back as you know how Professor Snape can be,” Justin mumbled, looking displeased about Harry’s lack of care for the lesson that ninety percent of the school feared. “If I remember right, it was chapter two, part three.”

“What’s this part three nonsense, Justin?” Ernie said. “It was just chapter two.”

“I label each chapter into parts,” Justin said, picking up his Charms book and showing it. “See? It makes for a better read.”

“That’s stupid.”

“You’re stupid.”

“I am not.”

“Are so!”

Harry rolled his eyes and tuned them out. He waited for the professor and wondered what was keeping the short man from teaching his lesson. The clock on the wall showed that it was three minutes past nine, which meant the lesson should be starting. Back at his old school, if the teacher wasn’t present at the ten minute mark, you could leave and do whatever.

Professor Flitwick strode in four minutes later looking rather upset and shaken. He addressed the class and apologised profusely, claiming that a student had gotten their head stuck in one of the bannisters on the stairs and it took a little bit of work to free him as the bannister wouldn’t cooperate.

Harry was interested in how a student got their head stuck in a bannister and why it took so long, especially with magic to aid them.

“We shall pick up where we left off last time,” Professor Flitwick said, standing on a pile of books that had been towered on a chair. “The Levitation Charm, better known as Wingardium Leviosa, or according to my last year class, the spell that makes things float.”

The class snickered.

“Who can tell me a little bit about it?” Professor Flitwick asked the class, not at all shocked about how many hands shot into the air. “Hmm – yes – Mr. Goldstein?”

“The Levitation Charm was invented in 1544 by a warlock named Jarzeth Hobart,” Anthony Goldstein said. “He had mistakenly believed that he had at last succeeded in doing what wizardkind had so far failed to do, and learnt to fly.”

“Close, Mr. Goldstein, but his name is Jarleth Hobart and not Jarzeth Hobart,” Professor Flitwick said eagerly. “Hobart’s story is a line one and filled with amusement that still makes many wizards and witches laugh when heard. Many believe that despite the original shun that Hobart had received, he was a very talented warlock. Now, speaking of warlocks, who can tell me a little more about them?”

Susan raised her hand, having heard about them slightly from her aunt, who was fascinated with anything revolving around the ministry and warlocks were generally well-respected wizards. “A warlock hasn’t got a solid definition regarding it and it’s a loose title that many claim when they do not deserve it. Some claim that it’s similar to Muggle ‘knighting’, which has apparently gone out of practice, at least according to my aunt, Amelia, and some think it revolves around skill.”

“Excellent, excellent,” Professor Flitwick said. “Can you, Miss. Bones, give me an example of at least three warlocks? Not including Jarleth Hobart.”

“I – uh – Albus Dumbledore?” Susan said, uncertain. “I’m fairly sure that Professor Dumbledore is a warlock…”

“Correct!” Professor Flitwick said cheerfully. “Anyone else?”

“Zaccaria Innocenti.”

No one was surprised that it had come from the Ravenclaw side of the room.

“Would you care to give a little explanation about Zaccaria Innocenti? Miss. Edgecombe?”

“I can, professor,” Marietta Edgecombe said confidently. “Despite having ‘innocent’ in his surname, Zaccaria Innocenti, was anything but. He misused the Tarantallegra spell in 79 AD to conjure a dance within Mt. Vesuvius. The volcano had a major eruption that year, which destroyed the Roman cities of Pompeii and Herculaneum, killing at least 1500 people. He’s one of the first named people to be called a warlock and it was because people feared him, seeing as he somehow manipulated nature and caused much devastation. The title of warlock was given to him posthumously after his death.”

“Good, good,” Professor Flitwick said, glancing around the classroom. “One more – Mr. Potter?”

“There’s Garvin Lügner, professor,” Harry said, butchering the man’s last name quite exceptionally. “Garvin was a German warlock and claimed that he had invented the Wand-Lighting Charm, Lumos, to counter his own invented creation, Instant Darkness Powder.”

“But we all know that the Wand-Lighting Charm was actually invented in 1772, by Levina Monkstanley,” a Ravenclaw student said, somewhat confused. “So this warlock shouldn’t be a warlock.”

“It was indeed,” Professor Flitwick said. “Garvin Lügner was talented, but also a chronic liar and often took credit for many things that he didn’t do and those who believed him eventually gave him a warlock title when they demanded it.”

Harry listened as the explanation behind Garvin Lügner’s exploits were explained in detail, something that couldn’t be done for the other warlocks that had been mentioned. It seemed to him as if the professor had done a fair amount of study on Garvin and knew all these random facts about him that many wouldn’t know at all. While Garvin hadn’t invented the Wand-Lighting Charm, he did invent something else similar to it and created the base for many different spells that are used in the modern-day that they were in.

He was watching the clock, feeling rather glum that his favourite lesson was slowly drawing to an end. He knew it was rather pathetic of him to be upset that they hadn’t yet touched up on the Levitation Charm, the intent behind it, or even the history and many uses that the spell has. He fought from snapping at the professor and informing him that History of Magic should be handling this and not Charms.

Glancing around, he realised that was a selfish thought as the entire class, except him, were so interest and sitting on the edge of their seats, eagerly awaiting more information about this man that they would never meet or speak to.

“Stop tapping your quill!”

Harry ignored the girl, who wasn’t scolding him, and continued on thumbing through the Charms book that would teach him a little bit about the Levitation Charm while the professor talked about Garvin Lügner, the constantly mentioned warlock that was a thief and stole other wizards’ spell creations.

He turned to Justin and realised that the boy looked just as bored as he did, so he quickly pulled out a small piece of parchment and ripped out a corner of the paper and dipped his quill into ink. Quickly writing in his messy, usual way, he handed over a small note towards Justin, who snorted and repeated the action.

_Only you, Harry, could be so bored in a class that you were talking about all day yesterday! Now we’re passing notes around like, I don’t know, some sort of kids? Even though we are kids!_

Harry rolled his eyes and made a dramatic motion of screwing up the note and tossing it in his bag. How much he wanted to hit Justin on the ear and complain that he was being obvious again. They were kids and how the professor expected them to remain still and alert when he had been speaking about some German warlock for the past twenty-seven minutes was lost on him. He huffed and fought the urge to tap his index finger on the worn desk that he was sitting at, trying to pass the time until he could learn something interesting.

“Good heavens!” Professor Flitwick said, catching a glimpse of the clock on the wall out of the corner of his eye. “We have gone off topic and we’re now a little behind on the Levitation Charm!”

Harry wasn’t sure whether to cry out in joy or just sigh and mutter ‘about time’ under his breath.

“Last lesson we were discussing Baruffio,” Professor Flitwick said, an amused expression crossing his face. “Who would like to recap the first lesson that we began studying this spell?”

An onslaught of hands rose in the air, some clipping their friend’s across the face as people were excited to get into the discussion.

“Mr. Smith?”

“Baruffio had a speech impediment. Because of his condition, he did not seem to have been able to perform particularly satisfactory magic, as he would mispronounce the incantations of spells,” Zacharias said. “According to a few rather old books, he would often pronounce an ‘s’ sound instead of an ‘f’ and the results were often seem as comical, but severely crippling in terms of magic and casting.”

“How is that relevant to the Levitation Charm?” Ernie asked. “The incantation, which is Wingardium Leviosa, doesn’t have an ‘f’ in it!”

“That’s because it was for a different spell, Mr. Macmillan,” Professor Flitwick said. “However, it applies with the Levitation Charm because mispronouncing it can have disastrous consequences for those only just starting magic.”

“Is that why we’re rushing into this, professor?” Harry asked. “Because in Transfiguration and Potions, we’ve taken a slower approach to the lessons and actually doing magic.”

“Exactly!” Professor Flitwick squeaked, looking rather happy about what was just said. “The Levitation Charm is the foundation for most magic, so it’s taught first. Once you learn this, other classes will begin teaching you spells that are far more complicated.”

The lesson continued and the students were happily practicing the ‘swish and flick’ movement that the professor had them do with sticks, which had been tucked away in a dusty drawer for a while. Pronunciation and wand movement were crucial for the starting stages of this spell. The professor had stated that the spell was the simplest to grasp, but the hardest to master.

Despite the fact that no one was doing magic, the class all banded together and really enjoyed it. Some mock floated around objects and acted as if they had succeeded in doing the impossible and caste wandless and nonverbal magic and the small age of eleven and were now floating around a quill or a book, which was supported by a small hand.

Professor Flitwick took the roll, seeing as he had forgotten to do it when he had come in late, which he was still rather embarrassed about and then began his closing speech, noting that the lesson only had around ten minutes left.

“I’m so excited for when we actually get to cast the spell,” Harry whispered to Ernie, who just rolled his eyes. “Roll your eyes all you want, Ernie, I’ll be making everything float in no time.”

“That’ll be an experience to witness,” Ernie replied, cutting the conversation short as he flicked his eyes towards the professor, who was preparing another speech, most likely one that would be their farewell and allowing them to leave.

Professor Flitwick beamed at the class. “I won’t be setting any essays or assignments for you to complete, but I will be urging you to read ahead on the Levitation Charm,” he said, noting something in his head. “I have heard that Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall have been setting you a vast amount of work to do outside of class and I won’t pile on top of that.”

It was as if the entire class let out one relieved breath at once.

“Yes,” Professor Flitwick said cheerfully, “I have heard that those two can be rather strict on the work they assign. Just remember that you can work together to get it done. You’re all assigned the same work and it’ll be quicker if you form little study groups to get it all sorted and done on the night you get it, no leaving it for the last night before you dive into action and rush to complete it.”

Harry liked this professor and class simply because Professor Flitwick didn’t just toss large amounts of work onto the students and instead urged them to learn it in their own time. At his old school, the teacher that taught Cooking was the same, urged them to learn recipes on their own and then they would inform her and they would cook something as a class, nothing to big like a roast or anything involving stoves, but it was about the same as what Professor Flitwick did.

“Come on, Harry,” Ernie said the moment they were dismissed. “I wanna go and look at that giant tree!”

“Again?” Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes, a dramatic gesture for such a boring thing. “Really, Ernie?”

“Yes!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish that I had a viable excuse to use for why this took so long. When I first started wring this, it started off as an errant thought that wouldn’t go away. It still hasn’t, which is lucky for you. I wanted to write at least one chapter per four days and then I would post one each week. This, overtime, would allow for a steady release for chapters… but that failed… miserably. This chapter went through three rewrites before I stopped it at what it is and I feel like it could and should be better than what it is.
> 
> I’m aiming for future releases that’ll have you, the readers, sitting on the edge of your seat, wanting more and more. I want to see you guys excited when you get a notification about the story being updated. 
> 
> Long and unnecessary author note, but oh well. I’ll hopefully get more stable releases out soon.


	8. Teach Me How to Fly

** Spur of the Moment **

By ModernDayWeeaboo

Chapter Eight: **Teach Me How to Fly**

***

The September month slowly crawled to an end, bringing in the slightly colder weather and more frequent rain. The students didn’t find any fault with running around in the rain, knowing that their clothes would be dried by the professors if they entered the classroom dripping wet. That’s not saying that the professors enjoyed doing it, and some, mainly Professor Snape, would make the students sit in their damp clothes until the end of the lesson and then he would finally dry your clothes with a spell that the professors kept between themselves.

It caused speculation that the professors were actually asking the house-elves to do it.

The theory was, no doubt, started by the Ravenclaws, who thrived on knowing everything about the school. Their most recent conquest was the magic that caused the steps to misbehave and they had the theory that Salazar Slytherin cursed them before he left the school and the other three founders never knew. Some, mainly the fourth-years and up, were actually surprised to see such a debate started by the younger students, but none questioned it.

Harry was sitting across from the debate with Ernie, who was complaining about the debate and them being loud. He rolled his eyes the best he could at his friend, who whined and moaned as he read over a text, acting much like a toddler who wanted to play with a toy, but didn’t actually want the toy.

“D’you think that we’ll have flying lessons soon?”

Harry glanced over and sighed. “Yes, Ernie, Professor Sprout said that we get ours in the first week of the second month,” he said, staring at Ernie. “Gryffindor and Slytherin get their lessons first and we get ours a month later.”

“Right.”

“Move it, you git, we’ve gotta go, else we’ll be late to History of Magic,” Harry said, shoving at Ernie’s stubborn body. “You’re so lucky I don’t know any spells yet, else I’d’ve hexed you so badly by now.”

Ernie grinned. “Oh, yeah? The big bad little Harry would’ve hexed me? Where’s the brave knight to come and save me from the evil Harry Potter?”

“Honestly,” Justin said from next to Harry, happily being ignored. “You two are worse than siblings.”

Harry hummed and glared at Justin, wondering if he could come up with a decent retort for the smart boy. “Your mum.”

Ernie looked confused on why Justin’s mum was even mentioned, but the look on Justin’s face meant that he understood the reference and looked amused by it. “I don’t get it,” he said, scratching his head. “What’s Justin’s mum got to do with our argument?”

“Nothing, Ernie, it’s a Muggle comeback, one that’s used by little children.”

“I’m not a little child!” Harry replied, his cheeks going slightly red. He stared at the library table with disdain before flicking his eyes towards Justin. “I’m not.”

“Whatever you say, little Harry,” Justin said, grinning. “When you act like you do, I’m surprised you’re not still drinking from a sippy cup. We all know that you spill and slurp enough at your drinks.”

“Maybe we can convince Professor Sprout to allow us to order in a baby bib for him, that way he doesn’t spill his dinner all over the place.”

“He’d still spill it, Ernie, he just wouldn’t mess his clothes.”

Harry silently seethed as the two started calling him a little child and needing things like bibs and sippy cups that way he wouldn’t spill his drinks and food over himself. Okay, so he once spilled a glass of pumpkin juice because he was trying it and it tasted foul and he wasn’t sure what to do and it dribbled out of his mouth and then it had become a joke in the entire Hufflepuff house.

He had become the new Nymphadora Tonks, a seventh-year who was known for her clumsiness and ability to trip over anything, even if it was on the other side of the room. He fell down the stairs once, because one step decided to mischievously vanish, and then he was called clumsy. He liked to think that he was at least capable of many things. He was a very talented dancer and would often spin and twirl around the house while humming some random tune that he had heard in the supermarket while shopping.

“Don’t get all depressed about it, ‘Arry, I was just joking.”

“Don’t call me that butchery of my name,” Harry said, lifting his chin, impersonating Justin. “And I’m not depressed about it, I was just thinking.”

“‘Kay, Tonks Junior, let’s go.”

Harry took in a deep breath and followed the immature boys he decided to call friends towards the History of Magic classroom. They wouldn’t be late, but they would be cutting it close, missing the first bell and only realising that something was amiss when the people in the library gave them an odd look. How those Ravenclaws remembered their first-year timetables after, like, four years was beyond him.

The three boys slipped into the room, four minutes late, not that Professor Binns noticed, and took their seats behind the snooty Ravenclaws, who were tutting at them as if they were grandparents or something.

Harry was already on the verge of dying of boredom within three minutes of hearing the ghost talk. It was amusing to see the Hufflepuffs fighting sleep, not wanting to fall asleep in the class so early and then to look over the other side of the room and see the Ravenclaws sitting up with their backs straight and their eyes locked onto the professor, some even taking notes.

“Don’t even have any homework to do,” Ernie muttered to himself. “What’m I meant to do?”

“What did you even say?” Harry asked, confused on the first word that Ernie said. “Whattem?”

“I said ‘What am’, Harry.”

“But you said it quickly and it came out as one word,” Harry said, confused. “Write it down.”

Ernie wrote it down and slipped it across the desk. He watched as Harry studied the paper carefully. “Does it make sense now?”

“NO! No it doesn’t. What’m isn’t even a proper word, it’s a – it’s a –”

“Contraction, Harry, what’m is a contraction.”

“Shut up, Ernie, that’s not a contraction, it’s a butchery of the English language. Just because you merged two words, doesn’t mean you can call it one.”

“What’m I meant to do then, Harry?”

“Stop saying it!” Harry said, glaring.

“Don’t throw a tantrum, Harry, wouldn’t want you to be upset.”

“I’m not throwing a tantrum! Let it go.”

“You are,” Ernie said, grinning. “You’re just not kicking and screaming about it. There’s also a distinct lack of tears and your face isn’t going all splotchy and stuff.”

The lesson continued and the two boys, much to Justin’s annoyance, continued to argue over contractions and the basic rules of English, which neither knew about besides the small amount they had learned before coming to Hogwarts. He had told them both to shut up more than ten times and neither listened. He glared and muttered about them being lucky that the ghost seemed to not care.

“What lesson d’we have now?” Harry asked, scratching his arm absent-mindedly. “I forgot.”

“You’d forget to wear underwear as well if it wasn’t for us telling you to put it on and not walk around without it,” Justin said, sighing. “Also, for someone who just spent half a lesson crying about Ernie butchering the English language, you certainly do it often enough.”

“Belt up, Justin,” Harry said, giving a mock angry glare. “What lesson do we have? That way I can grab the right book and not do what I did in Charms.”

“What’d you do in Charms?”

“The idiot took his Defence Against the Dark Arts book into Charms and was confused on why nothing made sense.”

“Really?” Ernie snickered. “That’s gold.”

“It was the lesson that he walked up to Professor Flitwick,” Justin said. “And then he came back to us looking red-faced and we just assumed he got a detention.”

Harry sighed as he drummed his leg with his hand in agitation. “I told you that in confidence, Justin, not so you could throw it back in my face when you’re attempting to belittle me.”

“Oh calm down, Harry, no need to have a fit about it.”

“And you say that Harry and I argue like siblings? You two argue worse than us and you two usually end up with hurt feelings –”

“Shut up, Ernie!”

“Be quiet, Ernie.”

“Wow, sheesh,” Ernie said, slightly smiling. “Now I see why you two argue as much as you do.”

* * *

Harry stood facing the Ravenclaw house, a row of brooms in front of him as he studied them intently. They looked highly worn, some twigs on the back of them were falling out and there were various chips in the wood that you sat on it. It felt wrong to say the shaft of the wood, considering it couldn’t be said without him snickering and his mind rushing back to that magazine that explained about the male reproductive organ (curiosity isn’t a good thing) and he fought to control his laughter. He made some weird noise as he let out a breath into his hand, a slightly chuckle mixed with a snort.

He listened as the professor explained the theory behind brooms and how the amazing, talented creators spent years working on each prototype. He shrugged as he was asked if he knew anything about brooms, truthfully the only thing he knew how to do was sweep the floor and sue them as a makeshift sword, but he didn’t want to say that.

“Right,” Professor Hooch said, looking across the students. “I need a volunteer.”

“What for?” Harry asked. He frowned when the professor gazed at him and then smiled as if all her dreams just came true.

“Yes, Mr. Potter, you’ll do,” Professor Hooch said, looking amused. “I rather enjoy the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw lessons as theirs no riffraff like in the Gryffindor and Slytherin lessons. One of them is too noisy and the other is just seething and hoping the other house falls out of the sky.”

Harry swallowed, a thousand different scenarios rushed through his mind with each step. What would she made him do? He may not be a Muggle-born, but he had no idea how to fly. He grew up in a house with electricity, and phones, and televisions, and gaming consoles! He didn’t know how to fly on a broom.

“Don’t look so shy, boy, I won’t attack you,” Professor Hooch said, looking rather amused, her eyes focusing on his posture. Hufflepuffs were always so frightened and timid when dealing with unknown factors. Just how she liked them. “I want you to climb onto the broom. No need to summon it to your hand, just bend down and pick it up.”

Harry stared at her for a moment and bent down, picking up the piece of wood with an expression that showed just how much he misunderstood what he was demonstrating. “‘Kay,” he muttered as he gripped the broom. “What do I do now, professor?”

Professor Hooch sent the boy an amused look. “Tuck it between your legs and prepare to kick off.”

“I – uh – okay,” Harry said, lifting his leg over the broom, wobbling slightly as his balance was thrown off a little bit. “Is this good?”

“No,” Professor Hooch said simply. “Your hand position is wrong and your far to up on the broom, slide down a little bit.”

Harry corrected himself, feeling like a right lunatic slighting down the broom, waiting for the professor to hum in approval at where his bottom was on the broom. He did the same with his hands and ignored the warmth that filled into his cheeks. He hated being in front of everyone and people watching him unnerved him slightly.

“Good, good. Now, kick off.”

Harry wasn’t sure on how he was meant to ‘kick off’ when she hadn’t explained it in detail at all. He wondered if he had to just kick as he hopped off the ground and that would send him soaring in the air – oh God, he hated heights! He didn’t want to fly! Why was this professor making him demonstrate how to fly in front of a crowd? He hated heights and he hated crowds. He felt like he was going vomit. He felt nauseous and he felt light-headed and he just wanted to lie down and sleep for a while.

He had plenty of colourful words that he wanted to call this professor for putting him in such an awful predicament. If he hadn’t been a moron and asked a question, he could be standing next to Ernie and laughing about the poor sod, who wouldn’t be him, who had to do this.

He couldn’t do this. The broom had no safety methods on it like those rollercoasters that Muggles rode. If he fell off that thin piece of wood he would fall and die and he didn’t want to fall. He heard that Neville Longbottom saw another first-year fly into the wall and break their nose and wrist in the process. He also heard that a Seeker three hundred years ago died during a game because the spells on the broom failed and he may be making this up in his hysteria, but who cares! It probably had happened before and he was not going to be a guinea pig and die because of some shoddy broom that looked ready to fall apart.

“Go on,” Professor Hooch encouraged the boy, unaware of his mental trauma.

“I – I don’t wanna,” Harry said, his voice sounding more of a whine than a general statement. His voice shook in all the wrongs ways, as if he was just seconds away from bursting in to tears. “I don’t – I don’t like h-heights!”

Professor Hooch studied the boy for a moment before she shook her head and sent him on his way back towards the Hufflepuff side of the lesson. She was sure that some professors would be annoyed that five minutes of the lesson were wasted because of that, but she was better than that and she recognised pure fear when she saw it. If that boy saw a Boggart, she knew that all he would see was a massive distance down and him standing on a very thin piece of stone, metal, or wood. Perhaps he would even experience the feeling of falling as well, the Boggart playing a more mental mind game with the child.

She turned towards the rest of the class, wondering how many were actually afraid of heights, not wanting to bother with flying because of their fear. She had told the headmaster plenty of times to do a survey and figure out these things that way the students weren’t thrust into the deep end and forced to do something they hated.

Harry stared at the ground, his cheeks bright red from embarrassment as he listened to the professor urge another student to demonstrate the same thing. He was aware that Ernie was attempting to soothe him about his common fear and that it wasn’t a stupid thing to fear. He was scared of so many things that it made him somewhat embarrassed to admit any of it.

“If it’ll make you feel any better, Harry, I’m scared of mummies,” Ernie said, smiling. “At least you attempted to fly, most would’ve just ran away and shook their heads, not wanting to do it.”

“Ernie,” Justin muttered, looking somewhat between amused and frustrated. “Promise me that you’ll never become a therapist when you’re older.”

“I dunno what that is, but ‘kay, I won’t become one.”

“Good.”

“– there you go, sweep your leg over and kick off,” Professor Hooch said to the Ravenclaw that was confidently climbing onto the broom.

The entire class watched as the Ravenclaw boy kicked off the ground and instantly fell back down, landing in a crumbled heap on the ground, a groan escaping his lips as he rubbed his backside. A few laughed but some looked nervous.

Harry looked downright distraught as he just realised that the broom failed and if he was in the air he would have fallen. You couldn’t pay him to get on one of those flying death machines. He watched curiously as the boy picked himself up and seemed to be rather excited about falling on his bottom.

“Can anyone tell me why that happened?” Professor Hooch said loudly, her voice carrying across the courtyard easily.

A few hands raised slightly, the person unsure on what had happened, but they had theories.

It came as no surprise to Harry when no one understood what happened.

“The broom failed because the rider had no intent on riding and they didn’t summon it correctly,” Professor Hooch said. “The command of telling the broom to come up to you is important because like most magic, it senses your intent and desire to ride it.”

“I’ve seen some wizards, mainly those on professional Quidditch teams, summon their broom without standing over it and saying ‘up’.”

“Very good, very good,” Professor Hooch said. “They’re simply summoning the broom using the Summoning Charm. Summoning your broom with ‘up’ is a basic and beginner way to summon your broom. You would be better talking to Professor Flitwick about the differences in the charms. I’m sure he’d love to debate it out with you in your next lesson.”

The Ravenclaws made a mental note and the Hufflepuffs were just glad that the flying lesson would start to begin, especially when the professor sent them all back towards the rows of brooms.

Professor Hooch smiled as the students quickly made their way towards the brooms. “All you need to do is say ‘up’ in a firm voice and then hold your broom when it comes into your hand. We’ll not be flying at all today… I’m just teaching you the basics.”

Harry let out a relieved breath and stood over his broom, looking down at it with a slight clench in his stomach. He didn’t even want to summon the thing let alone ride it. “UP!” he said with a fierce determination, wanting the broom in his hand. He watched the broom just bounce around the ground and he sighed.

He listened as the professor praised the students who got it on their first try and even on their second. He shook his head and glanced around, noticing that no one was looking at him. So, using all his cunning and sneakiness, he bent down and picked up the broom and then held out his arm, making it look like he had summoned it.

He felt so guilty for doing it, but he couldn’t manage to overcome his base and inbuilt fear of heights to get a steady grip over the broom and allow himself to have the confidence he needs to summon it into his hands. It wasn’t like he wasn’t going to be thrust into a sudden game of Quidditch and forced to play, right?

“Good job, Mr. Potter,” Professor Hooch said, staring the boy up and down. “Perhaps now with the confidence you got to summon the broom, how about a small test flight?”

Harry’s stomach dropped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter is a little shorter than the rest but I felt as if it was a good place to stop and lead in to the next chapter. :)
> 
> I apologise for the delay. :(
> 
> Actually, there’s something that I want to address and I’m sure you’ve noticed it in this chapter. Harry is a lot more informal now. I decided that his mum made him speak a little more formal and now that he’s away, he’s speaking like a lot of the other students. Just a quick mental note on why his speech has changed slightly.


	9. A Very Hufflepuff-ish Hallowe’en

** Spur of the Moment **

By ModernDayWeeaboo

Chapter Nine: **A Very Hufflepuff-ish Hallowe’en**

***

“Get up, Harry!” Ernie said, nudging the sleeping boy. “You’ll be late for class!”

Harry groaned sleepily, turning onto his side and pulling the covers up to his neck. His fingers were clenched between the sheets and he let out a little mock snore, hoping the person would leave him alone to sleep some more.

“C’mon, Harry, get up or we’ll be late,” Ernie said, shaking the boy. “And yes, I said we as I’ll be late if I don’t manage to drag you to class!”

“I’ll do it in five minutes, mum, let me just rest a bit more…”

“I’m not your mum!” Ernie said, his arms folded childishly across his chest. “If I was your mum, you’d be in for a rough time for your laziness!”

Harry grumbled into his pillow before continuing his somewhat soft snoring, if that was possible.

“What’s taking you so long, Ernie? Just toss him off the bed and he’ll wake up.”

Ernie scowled at Justin, who had just barged in. “You don’t think I haven’t tried that yet, Justin? If I push him off the bed, then he’ll just moan and whine about it all day.”

“Being a hundred percent honest, I doubt anyone else would care if he moaned and whined,” Justin said, picking a t-shirt from the floor. “‘Sides, it’ll be his fault that we lose points because he overslept through breakfast and the first lesson of the day. Trust me when I say it, Ernie, he’ll never learn unless we make him.”

“Won’t he be hungry?”

“Most likely, but that’s a good punishment, isn’t it?” Justin said. “He’ll think twice about staying up most’ve the night reading his comic books and he’ll focus on actually sleeping.”

“What’re comic books?”

Justin sighed and sent Ernie one of the looks that he had mastered since calling said boy his friend. He swears he had to use the ‘look’ each day to inform both Harry and Ernie that they were asking ridiculous questions. “Ask Harry when you wake him up.”

It took seven minutes, but eventually they got the green-eyed boy to wake up, it took a cup of water and a lot of poking in the ribs. Of course, Harry woke up with a shriek when cold water was dumped on him, but a highly amusing facial expression for the two others.

“Why’d you do that?”

“Because it’s almost time for the first lesson and if you stayed asleep any longer then you’d’ve missed it,” Ernie said, looking rather sheepish. “I tried to wake you up before breakfast, but you didn’t budge.”

“That doesn’t mean that you had to dump water on me!” Harry huffed and tugged at his shirt, which was now dripping onto the carpeted floor. “Y’know, Ernie, the house-elves that clean the rooms are gonna hate you, I think.”

“And why’s that, Harry?”

“‘Cos now they’ll need to change my sheets and stuff… they did it yesterday.”

Ernie snorted and threw Harry’s robes at him. “Go and shower, you’ve got less than five minutes before our first lesson starts.”

Justin watched the black-haired, green-eyed boy scowl and walk towards the lavatory, muttering under his breath. “I think we’ll be able to whip him into shape in a few weeks, a month at the most.”

“Whip him?” Ernie repeated, paling at the sheer thought of whipping a friend. “You don’t mean that we actually whip him?”

Justin groaned and rubbed his head. “It’s a saying, Ernie,” he muttered, looking slightly irritated. “I’ve gathered that he’s a bit like me and hasn’t really been denied anything he’s asked for. He’s not spoilt –”

“Like Draco Malfoy.”

“– but it’s obvious his mother doesn’t like to deny him anything, which is how come he got sent so many comic books.”

“I’m not following,” Ernie muttered, trying to figure out where Justin was going with this little conversation. “What’re we gonna do? Take away his comic books if he doesn’t listen? We can’t parent him, Justin.”

“That’s exactly what we’re gonna do! When he sleeps in, we take ‘em away, and when he wakes up early, he can have them back.”

“I dunno…”

“Trust me,” Justin said, grinning. “The best way to make him learn is to take away the things that he enjoys. It’s what my mother did when I misbehaved.”

“Nothing of mine wasn’t really taken away, I was a good child.”

“Right.”

“What? I was!”

“If you say so, Ernie, if you say so.”

* * *

Harry sighed and tossed his head back, groaning. “I’m not doing this,” he said, throwing his quill at the piece of paper. “It’s Hallowe’en, I shouldn’t be subjected to such things on a holiday!”

“It’s three lines, Harry, less than seventy words… get over it.”

“Maybe I can change ‘can’t’ into ‘can not’ and that’ll add more space used…”

“It’d be _cannot_ , Harry, not _can not_ ,” Justin correcting, grinning. “Just get Cedric to do it for you. I’m sure he’d love to do it.”

“Snape’d know that it wasn’t my handwriting and magic cannot fool that,” Harry said, having already asked his mum if it was possible to mimic another person’s handwriting. “It took a little bit to convince her I wasn’t planning on cheating and she must’ve remembered that I was a Hufflepuff and we don’t do things like that.”

“Only you’d dare try and do forgery, Harry,” Ernie sniped from the sofa he was sitting on, planning out his outfit for the Hallowe’en party later on. “Not that’d it work, if it did, I’d be bloody surprised.”

“Don’t swear, Ernie!”

Ernie rolled his eyes. “It’s not a swear word, Harry, it’s a normal word.”

“It’s a swear word! That prefect said so and she said not to say it unless you were scared.”

“I was scared, Harry, bloody frightened.”

Harry scowled and screwed up a piece of parchment, tossing it at Ernie’s head. He had laughed, alongside many others, when he learned the word with Ernie and Justin, who had heard a sixth-year use it rather often regarding any and everything. ‘What the bloody hell was that’, ‘are you bloody serious?’, ‘sometimes, you’re bloody annoying!’ were just a few of the common slurs by the boy and each time the girls would frown while the other boys giggled and attempted to hide their amusement.

The three boys slowly shifted back into their previous task of trying on their Hallowe’en costumes. Some needed a bit more work to complete. They had each asked around, trying to gather some information about the holiday, and realised that the Hallowe’en costume party was a new things that had been trailed last year and would make a comeback this year, allowing the students to dress up in their favourite costumes, which could be purchased from a catalogue which had appeared in the common room in each of the houses.

Harry had placed the Galleons for his outfit in the small envelope he was given and slipped the order from in and handed it to his head of house, Professor Sprout. She had complimented him on his speed on getting the envelope, not that it was called that, to her. She had also informed him that there was a schoolwide competition on who was best dressed and the winner would receive a rather special reward that would be announced at a later date.

* * *

The lessons ended and Harry was getting rather impatient with how slow the walk towards the common room was. He was so excited to get and try on his costume. Back in the Muggle world, they never did these things and Hallowe’en wasn’t exactly celebrated with costumes and walking door to door for candy.

 “Would you stand still for a moment?” Justin said, staring at the fidgeting black-haired boy with an amused expression. “With the way that you’re hopping from foot to foot, people’d be thinking that you’re about three seconds away from peeing yourself.”

“Don’t be gross,” Harry muttered, stopping on his left foot. “I’m not gonna pee myself! I’m just excited.”

“And that’s how most people pee themselves,” Ernie said, joining in. “They get excited and can’t control it.”

“I can control my bladder, Ernie!”

“Honestly, it looks like he’s doing the ‘I need to pee dance’,” Ernie said, studying Harry. “Y’know when kids need to go but just dance around, hoping it goes away.”

“Can we not talk about this?” Harry said. “Instead, we should be talking about our costumes.”

“Oh, yes, our costumes,” Justin said. “Let me tell you that it was impossible to find one that was actually good. I couldn’t really ask either of you about it as it’d spoil it and both of you would steal my idea.”

“We wouldn’t steal your idea, Justin,” Ernie muttered, weaving around a group of Gryffindors. “And I’m sure that Harry’d just ignore it as he’s overexcited for his costume. At this rate, I just wanna see what Harry got so I can see if his excitement was perfect for the situation or not.”

“Hey!” Harry said, glaring at Ernie. “I put in a lot of effort into this so I could win.”

“Competitive much?”

Harry grinned at Ernie and walked slightly faster. He spun around to face Ernie. “Maybe I am,” he said, walking backwards. “Maybe I’d like to win just so I can rub it in your face.”

“You couldn’t beat me if you tried,” Ernie muttered. His eyes widened for a moment and went to say something, but paused with his mouth open.

“What’re you smirking about? I’ll have you – oomph!”

Ernie watched as Harry walked into Nymphadora Tonks, causing the girl to drop the small pile of books she was holding. His amusement increased when Harry tried to apologise profusely, stuttering over his words.

Nymphadora brushed her robes and sighed. “Excuse me,” she said, looking at the first-year with a look of annoyance. “Can you watch – oh, I know you! They say you’re the new me.”

“I’ve heard all this before!” Harry muttered. “Fall over once and now you’re the new Nymphadora Tonks. Y’know, I just had a thought –”

“That’s a rare occurrence.”

“– and I’m pretty sure that you’re threatened by my presence in taking over your position,” Harry said, ignoring Justin. “It makes sense, y’know.”

“I’m deadly afraid of you taking my position,” Nymphadora said. “A small first-year dethroning me.”

Harry shrugged and watched the girl leave, her hair turning into a strawberry blonde as she made her way up the corridor. “She’s always fun to rile up,” he said, continuing his walk. “I wonder what she’ll be wearing for Hallowe’en.”

“Got a crush, Harry?”

“You git, shut up.”

* * *

“Mr. Potter,” Professor Sprout said, holding out a bland looking package. “This one’s yours.”

Harry jumped up from the sofa he was sitting on and collected the package. Thank you, professor,” he said happily. He gently took the package from the professor’s hands and almost skipped back towards Justin and Ernie. “I got it!”

“We can see that, Harry,” Justin said. “How about you open it and show us what’s had you so excited?”

“No.”

“What d’you mean?” Ernie said. “Show us.”

“No.”

“Don’t be a prat, Harry,” Justin muttered. “You’ve been going on about this costume for hours and hours, and that’s just for today. Now you’ve got it, you’re gonna keep it a surprise?”

“Yup!”

“You really are a prat,” Ernie said, eyeing the package. “Go and put it on and then show us. You’ve got an hour.”

Harry glared at Ernie and huffed. “Fine,” he muttered standing. “No one’s gonna even comment on how big it is?”

“It’s not that big.”

“My package is big,” Harry said, a grin on his face.

“Get out.”

Harry ran out of the common room and towards the first-year boys’ dormitory giggling. He was curious on whether Justin would’ve heard that joke before or not, and he clearly had. He wondered if he’d learn any more jokes the coming holidays, hoping that his friend’s brother would teach him some more.

He held the package in his hands and slowly began to unwrap it. He was so excited and frightened at the same time, if that was even possible. His mum had said that many would be afraid of his costume simply because of what it was. It was just like how most pure-blood witches and wizards didn’t dress up as werewolves or vampires. No one wants to ‘disgrace’ themselves and dress up as a creature. He wasn’t afraid of being ridiculed about dressing up as a creature, not that he was.

He held the fabric in his hands and smiled, knowing that he’d win the competition easily. He pulled off his robe and tossed it onto his bed; his grey sweater and white shirt followed. He yanked off his trousers and stood there in his underwear, staring at the piece of fabric. He was glad that no one came in and saw him at that moment, as he was sure he looked ridiculous.

He pulled out the torso part of his costume and slipped it on, grinning as the fabric slipped over his bare torso. It fit perfectly. He reached in for the part that covered the pants and stepped into it.

“Harry, hurry up!”

Harry grumbled and put the rest on, not wanting to miss the actual event. Apparently, he had been standing there in nothing but his underwear for thirty minutes. “Almost done!” he shouted back, trying to pull on the shoes.

* * *

“Oh, Harry, you’re gonna frighten a lot of pure-bloods,” Ernie said, looking rather concerned.

“What d’you mean?” Harry asked. “I know my costume is great and all, but yeah…”

Ernie shrugged. “You’re gonna be the only one who’ll be wearing that type of costume,” he said. “And there’s a reason for that… I’m not sure how you even got a costume for it.”

“Easily,” Harry said. “But why’re you so shocked?”

“Because you don’t impersonate Death, Harry,” Ernie said. “Many pure-blood witches and wizards believe that it’s bad luck to impersonate and make a mockery of Death.”

“I don’t understand…”

“Many don’t,” Justin said, filling in for Ernie. “I don’t understand it either as witches and wizards talk about Death as if he’s real –”

“Death could be female.”

“Do shut up, Harry,” Justin said. “You’re giving me a headache quicker than usual.”

“Boohoo!”

“Prat.”

“So, yeah, you’re imitating Death and most pure-bloods will avoid you like you have Dragon Pox,” Ernie said, grinning at his friend’s misfortune. “I’m not sure if you’ll win the competition on the grounds that everyone’ll fear you.”

“Isn’t that the point? Have a costume that makes people scared?” Harry said, looking rather confused. “I mean, you go around and knock on doors for candy.”

“You have no idea where Hallowe’en came from, do you?”

“Nope.”

Ernie sighed. “Hallowe’en originally started when a witch turned her Muggle neighbour into a mummy. The Muggle then went door to door and asked for help. No Muggles dared open the door and when one did, they offered sugar for peace.”

“And?”

“ _And_?” Ernie repeated. “That’s how it started. It began with witches and wizards turning all Muggles into various things to frighten them and it was soon enough adapted by Muggles as a joyous event that should be celebrated. Of course, we’re pretty laid back about the thing and don’t usually celebrate it, but most places get festive about Hallowe’en.”

“Okay,” Harry said, scratching his head. “But my mum said that Hogwarts hasn’t really celebrated it.”

“That’s a funny story, actually,” Ernie said. “One of my grandfathers used to go on about it. It was stopped when he was a fourth-year. He said that a group of Ravenclaws found evidence that the day was once celebrated Muggles to hunt for witches and wizards but they got their facts wrong. It ended up being a schoolwide debate and they just cancelled the holiday to stop duels breaking out. Ignorant Ravenclaws thinking that they’re right all the time.”

“Wow – ah – alright… what makes the story funny?”

“Because my grandfather didn’t know that it’d stopped and proceeded to dress up and he lost fifty points and caused the situation to reignite. It’d only stopped for a year and my grandfather ruined the peace.”

“So, wait, if that’s the case, then how come pure-bloods call Hallowe’en a Muggle holiday? Wizards invented it, pretty much.”

“Because of something that happened before half of us where even called what we are,” Ernie said. “Most pure-bloods were named after what they did. For example, the Potters were potters back in the day and such. Some, such as the Macmillan line, opted to combine two family names and merge them into one.”

“What was that?” Harry asked, staring at Ernie in disbelief.

“What?”

“You just went all formal and crazy on me. Honestly, ‘opted’?”

“Oh, shut up, you git,” Ernie muttered. “When you’ve got barmy portraits that’ve lived hundreds of years walking around in your house, then you’d be picking up on how they speak as well.”

Harry gasped. “So that’s why most pure-bloods seem rather formal!” he said, surprised. “You’ve just let me in on a big secret.”

“In a sense,” Ernie said. “Most children speak how their peers speak and if a child spends time around someone who talks proper, then the child will speak proper.”

“What happened to you?” Harry asked. “You’re a pure-blood and you speak like every other eleven-year-old boy I’ve spoken to.”

“Thanks, Harry,” Ernie mumbled. “You really made me feel like I’m special, y’know.”

“How’d this chat go from Hallowe’en to proper forms of speaking?” Justin asked. “I was away for less than five minutes and you idiots have derailed a conversation.”

“That’s not nice,” Harry said, glaring through the small holes in his mask, not that either of them would see it. “I’ll have you know that the Sorting Hat wanted to place me in Ravenclaw because I’m intelligent.”

“Everyone could belong in all houses, Harry,” Justin said. “With a little dedication and teaching, you could place a Slytherin in Gryffindor. Most Slytherins aren’t cunning and they’re not ambitious. There’s some awfully stupid Ravenclaws and some rather cowardly Gryffindors.”

“I get the point, Justin, no need to go all _Granger_ on me.”

“Well, Harry, maybe if you used your small brain instead of thinking up stupid things then I wouldn’t need to correct you all the time.”

“My ideas aren’t stupid,” Harry said. “The professors call them decent.”

“They say that to spare your feelings,” Justin muttered. “Didn’t you go to an all-boys’ private school? You should know that.”

“I did. The professors there were above sparing feelings and I never got a stern talking to about my bad ideas.”

“Because they didn’t want to hurt your feelings, Harry,” Justin repeated. “You’re like a kitten, at least in some aspects, it’s hard to say no to you. No one wants to hurt your feelings.”

“You say things to hurt my feelings all the time.”

“I dislike cats.”

“I have a pet cat,” Harry stated. “You like her.”

“I don’t like your cat, Harry, it puts fur all over my bed.”

“Get over it.”

“Would you two shut up and start going to the Great Hall?” Ernie said, snapping the two form their argument. “Everyone else has already left.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“I did, twice,” Ernie said, shoving Justin out the door. “You two ignored me in favour of your silly debate.”

“He was calling me an idiot, Ernie, an _idiot_!”

“And?” Ernie said, causally, walking through the doorway. “The truth hurts, Harry.”

“Wow,” Harry said, glaring. “I’m being ganged up on.”

The three of them walked towards the Great Hall, ignoring the wary looks that were being sent their way. Harry walked behind Ernie, trying to hide his costume. He realised that up until this point he hadn’t really looked at what they were wearing. Ernie was sporting a nice mummy costume, which made sense, at least according to Harry, as Ernie was a massive mother’s boy. Justin, however, was going for a more Muggle approach and was impersonating a vampire. Blood covered fangs and all.

It was a silent walk towards the Great Hall, with neither of the boys wanting to start up a discussion that would be interrupted or forgotten the moment that they reached the Great Hall. Of course, the castle had been decorated with hovering bats that were flying towards the Great Hall, but seemingly teleported back, allowing for a constant stream of flying bats. Cobwebs also littered the walls, but neither of them knew if they were real cobwebs, or if they were fake ones. None of them wanted to check.

“Ready to make your big entrance, Harry?” Ernie said, grinning. “I’m sure everyone’ll love what you’re wearing. Assuming half of them don’t piss themselves.”

“Ernie!”

“What?”

“Don’t use such crude language,” Justin said. “What if a professor was around?”

“Ugh, no professors were around, Justin,” Ernie said, frowning. “Plus, I’ve heard you use the same exact phrase before.”

“That was when we were in the common room!”

“Be quiet ladies, I’m getting ready to make my entrance.”

“Y’know, that costume looks somewhat like a dress,” Justin said, snapping his head towards Harry, a frown on his face. “I’m sure many of the students may think you’re a female in a shabby dress instead of Death.”

“Wow.”

Ernie snickered and studied Harry a bit closer, wondering if Justin was actually right. “I cannot believe that you’re actually right, Justin,” he said. “It does look like Harry’s wearing a dress.”

“You two are such idiots,” Harry mumbled, his face tinging slightly red. “You get under my skin so often that I’m amazed that I haven’t hexed you yet!”

“Watch out, Ernie, Harry’s gonna hex us with his spells that couldn’t harm a fly.”

“More like he couldn’t harm a fly with no legs or wings.”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Harry muttered. “Granger may’ve gotten the Levitation Charm first, but I’ll beat her on something else.”

“She’s gonna beat you in most things, Harry, she’s book smart and you’re just… you.”

Harry glared at Ernie, something he had been doing a lot in the past hour. “Are you two just gonna gang up on me all day? Shall I just put a sign on my head that says ‘verbally abuse me’?”

“We’re not verbally abusing you, Harry, we’re just being friendly.”

“Whatever,” Harry mumbled and pushed open the Great Hall door. He didn’t expect everyone to turn and gasp at his costume, and he was glad when no one did anything ridiculous like that. He was also glad that he made it in before Justin and Ernie made a scene and caused people to turn and look at him. His competitive streak vanished just like that.

“Hi, Harry, long time no see.”

Harry turned to Cedric and smiled. “I know, it’s been a while,” he said, all anger vanishing. “How’ve you been?”

“Pretty good, thanks for asking,” Cedric said, picking up a piece of Hallowe’en candy. “Nice costume. What’re you?”

“I was meant to be Death, but I don’t really care about it anymore.”

“Oh?” Cedric said, not at all surprised. “Did something happen? I hope no one gave you any trouble for going as Death, I know a fair few people don’t like it.”

“Just Ernie and Justin being morons.”

“That’s a pretty harsh word, y’know,” Cedric said. “I’m not sure about you, but sometimes I think it’s better to just forgive and forget and not ruin a great friendship by holding grudges.”

“Surely it’s not that easy to just get over something like that,” Harry said, picking up a piece of candy. “I mean, they can be gits and they strive to wind me up and nine times outta ten, they succeed.”

Cedric hummed and then turned towards the first-year with a slight smile. “Then maybe we should get ‘em back.”

“Oh?” Harry said, gaping. “How’d we do that?”

Cedric grinned and ignored the Great Hall doors being barged open. “That’s rather easy, Harry, all we’ve got to do is plan it out over a few days and then they won’t be suspecting it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hides under desk*
> 
> I know, it's been almost a month since the last update and at one stage, I promised weekly updates. For the few of you that have stuck with the story, despite the few bad chapters, countless errors, and immersion breaking speech by eleven-year-old children (which I have fixed in this chapter) I want to say thank you.
> 
> So, MDW (that's me), what took you so long to write a chapter? Well, I can safely say that my muse hasn't vanished and I'll finish this fic -- okay, I lied. My muse for the damn first-year has vanished. When I originally drafted this story, I planned to skip most of the earlier years and get straight into it. I had a few scenes in mind, both adult and non-adult, but I decided (at the last minute) to actually add in a plot and character development. So, what's the issue? I've run out of non-heroic things for Harry to do. He's far too young to study healing, he's far too young to get up to no good, and he's to young to pursue his relationship with Cedric.
> 
> I want to time-skip into the second-year, around midway through for a chapter or two. I hate that there's no poll option, but I want to k ow if you guys want me to time-skip ahead or continue through the year at this slow pace (not IRL time wise). Just leave a comment and I'll decide from there.
> 
> Also, sorry for the rather jarring end to the chapter. There's one more and then it'll either skip to year two, or it'll skip to later in the first year. I just want you to know that most of the action starts in third-year. Disclaimer: action means many things.
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading! Sorry about the long note.


	10. Terrible Trolls

** Spur of the Moment **

By ModernDayWeeaboo

Chapter Ten: **Terrible Trolls**

***

Harry was in the middle of telling one of his lame jokes when the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor shouted something and then collapsed. He wasn’t deaf, but he did have some amazing selective hearing and wasn’t actually listening to what the professor had shouted about in his collapse.

“Harry, this is important!” Cedric said, sighing. “You should be listening!”

“I don’t care, Cedric,” Harry muttered holding a piece of chocolate fudge that he had swiped from the table, knowing that the food would vanish soon. “Professor Quirrell is the person that’s meant to help us, not run into the Great Hall and faint when he encounters something.”

“It could be _important_ ,” Cedric said, stressing the importance of the situation. “What if someone is hurt or there’s something dangerous in the school? If you don’t listen, then you’re just gonna be confused when you’re asked something.”

“What?”

“I rest my case.”

“Oh my God!” Harry said, rather dramatically. “What if Quirrell’s running from a vampire that has sneaked into the castle, aiming to kill him in his sleep and he managed to make a daring getaway and he’s now here, collapsed from the fight that had occurred?”

Cedric sighed. “We all know that Professor Quirrell is afraid of vampires, his stutter gets much worse when describing them,” he muttered. “And no, Harry, I don’t think a vampire has come to the castle to kill him, as it couldn’t.”

“Ooh! So the Muggles were right and you have to invite a vampire in for it to enter a house?”

“Merlin! No,” Cedric said, exasperated. “The wards on the school wouldn’t allow a vampire to enter will ill intent. We’ve started learning about them in Runes.”

“Doesn’t that prove that all Slytherins aren’t actually evil as none of them would have any ill intent?”

“Wishful thinking, Harry,” Cedric said, beaming despite the conversation. “It only applies to creatures and beasts from the Forbidden Forest, which you don’t want to go!”

“Why would I want to go there?” Harry asked, shuddering at the reminder of the warning about the forest. “The headmaster obviously stated that it was forbidden, just like the third-floor corridor –”

“On the right-hand side, Harry,” Cedric said, grinning. “The whole corridor isn’t forbidden.”

“If you think I’m going on that floor at all, you’re crazy.”

“Both your parents were Gryffindors, Harry, I’m sure there’s a bit of Gryffindor in you somewhere.”

“It’s hidden under my Slytherin and Ravenclaw sides, I think,” Harry muttered, placing a corner of the fudge in his mouth. “Hidden pretty deep.”

“Must you speak with food in your mouth?” Cedric said, frowning. “Where you taught no table manners?”

“I was,” Harry muttered, ignoring the commotion around him and picked up more fudge pieces. “But I decided to ignore them as I didn’t care for much learning when I was about six.”

Cedric sighed and shook his head. “Are you starting a stash of junk food? You do know that any of the Prefects will confiscate any food found in the dormitories?”

“I did listen to the rules as they were said, Cedric,” Harry muttered, still piling pieces of fudge into his robe pockets. “It’s just a snack. I get hungry when doing homework and the walk to the kitchens are hard on my feet.”

“So you’re just lazy.”

“Hey!” Harry said, a mock look of hurt on his face. “We’ve been over this before and I’m not lazy, just smart.”

“You’re just lazy.”

Harry was in the middle of a rather witty retort when the entire Great Hall screamed and everyone started to get up. “What if this is just an act? It is Hallowe’en, after all.”

“I don’t think it’s an act, Harry, been the professors look startled,” Cedric said, gesturing towards the table with all the staff, which were clasping their hands over their mouths.

“So? I honestly believe –”

“Hush, Harry, Professor Dumbledore is speaking.”

Harry grumbled under his breath and turned his focus towards the headmaster, who was getting ready to speak a massive speech.

“Prefects, please lead your students of your house back to the respective dormitories instantly!” Professor Dumbledore said, sending up a firework with his wand, install silencing the crowd. “The troll may no longer be in the dungeons, so it would be wise to keep a very close eye out and flee if you come across it.”

There was a massive flurry of activity and shouting of ‘Gryffindors, this way!’ and the same for all the other houses. The Slytherins lagged behind, not wanting to walk straight into the troll as it was apparently in the dungeons. The Slytherins knew that the dungeons were much larger than most thought and they were the safest, following the professors.

“Follow me! Stick together, first-years! No need to fear the troll if you follow my orders! Stay close behind me, now. Make way, first-years coming through! Excuse me, I’m a Prefect!”

Harry winced as Percy Weasley began demanding his house on where they should go. “Look – Cedric, look at Neville and Ron!”

Cedric stopped nudging Harry out of the Great Hall and followed his gaze, noticing the two first-year Gryffindors looking rather impatient and fidgety about something. “They look like they’ve just swiped fudge and are taking it to the common room.”

“It looks like Grangers missing as well,” Harry noted. “Isn’t she one of them?”

“ _One of them_?”

“Shut up,” Harry muttered. “If Granger isn’t here, then she’d have no idea a massive troll is on the loose!”

“Maybe she knows and has already left?” Cedric muttered, still nudging Harry forwards. “Granger may be in Gryffindor, but she’s not foolishly brave like the rest of them.”

“She’s also Muggle-born!”

“And? You’re Muggle-raised.”

“She spends a lot of time in the library to learn how witches and wizards act!” Harry said, as if it should be obvious. “She wouldn’t be here as she most likely thought most witches and wizards didn’t celebrate Hallowe’en! It says so in _Hogwarts: A History_.”

Cedric frowned. “I’m still not following.”

“Granger’ll be coming from the library to the Great Hall to eat dinner, which should be on _now_!” Harry said, stressing the word. “If the troll has left the dungeons, as Professor Dumbledore has assumed, then she’ll be walking straight into it, unaware!”

Cedric hovered for a moment before giving in and allowing Harry to go tell a professor about Granger. What he didn’t expect was for Harry to dash out of his reach and towards Neville Longbottom and Ron Weasley. ‘Maybe he’s just telling them, then he’ll go to a prefect or a professor,’ he thought, following after Harry.

“Neville!” Harry called, trying to get the attention of the first-year Gryffindor. “NEVILLE!”

“Harry?”

“We think Granger could be attacked by the troll!” Harry whispered, not wanting anyone else to overhear. “Last I heard she was in the –”

“Library, yeah,” Ron said. “She was researching something and forgot to come down for dinner.”

“Oh. I thought she didn’t know that we didn’t celebrate Hallowe’en.”

“Hermione isn’t stupid, Potter,” Ron said, glaring. “She knows more than you do!”

“I didn’t say that she didn’t,” Harry muttered. “God, must you be so defensive about it? I was just telling you what I thought was happening – that one of your friends was in danger.”

“Ignore Ron, Harry, he’s just upset that Hermione corrected him in Charms today,” Neville said, smiling. “We’re just about to rescue Hermione now. If you wanna tag along.”

“We should tell the professors,” Cedric said, smiling when Harry nodded after he said it. “There’s not much we can do against a troll.”

“Cedric’s right,” Harry said before Ron could let his infamous temper loose. “We may even get points or something and won’t have to risk our lives.”

“What professors?” Neville said. “Take a look around, everyone’s already gone.”

“What?” Harry muttered as he turned and glanced around the now empty corridor. “When did they all leave and why did they just leave us here?”

“Probably while we were speaking,” Ron said. “And because we were actually walking, I doubt they cared very much. You two are coming with us, no matter what.”

“Hermione isn’t stupid,” Neville said, gesturing to start walking. “I’m sure if she comes across the troll she’ll run and try and find a professor, but we wanna find her before that happens!”

Harry sighed and just followed, slowly eating his pieces of fudge as he followed the two Gryffindors as they jogged throughout the empty corridors. He briefly wondered if they’d actually come across the troll or if they’d be in luck and manage to avoid it. He smiled as Cedric began listing off the weaknesses and strengths of a troll.

“If you find yourself in a pinch, run up a staircase,” Cedric said. “Trolls cannot climb them and they’ll topple backwards. It’s best to just circle around the troll and allowed it to tire itself out. Throwing spells at the thing will enrage it –”

“We know how to deal with a troll,” Ron said, cutting off the unhelpful tips that wouldn’t exactly apply to their situation. “We’re not looking to fight the thing, just save Hermione.”

“Oh, okay,” Harry said intelligently and followed behind the group, wanting to get a professor, no matter how long that’d take compared to just going along with this charade. Perhaps it was best to just remain quiet and follow along.

“So much for keeping our heads down,” Cedric whispered to Harry. “Barely even a month in and we’re already breaking rules.”

“Could be worse,” Harry said, smirking. “It could be us being chased by a troll. I doubt Justin or Ernie would come after me in this situation.”

“They would, Harry, they’d just bring professors and not some Gryffindors.”

The four boys walked down the corridors, searching and smelling for any signs of the troll. Ron and Neville, having grown up in the wizarding world, were more aware than Harry, who had no idea if a troll was actually smelly or if it was something different altogether. Cedric decided to just focus on sticking with Harry, making sure the smaller boy wasn’t going to get himself in danger by tripping over something and stumbling into the troll.

“Something about this feels off, Harry,” Cedric said, walking down a maze of corridors, seemingly lost. “A troll shouldn’t be this hard to find.”

Harry noted that Cedric was right and a massive troll shouldn’t be hard to find. “Hey, Neville, shouldn’t’ve we already found the troll?” he said, voicing his concerns. “I mean, it can’t be that hard to find, right?”

“You’re right, but Hogwarts is massive!” Neville said, turning another corner. “There’s like nine floors, all bigger than Hogsmeade. We’ve got a lotta ground to search.”

“Shouldn’t we be searching near the library area?” Harry suggested, just throwing the idea out there. “I’m not sure if she’d’ve walked this far out, I mean, we’re not even on the same floor as the library.”

“Fred ‘n’ George showed me a secret earlier this week,” Ron said, grinning. “They’ve watched it and think that not even Filch knows where it is.”

“Nice.”

“And ‘cos you’re not Slytherins, we can show it to you,” Ron said. “So do keep it from them or you’ll have to deal with Fred and George.”

“Okay,” Cedric said, not really caring about a secret passage that many people would have already seen and used before. “And this’ll take us straight to the library?”

“Should do.”

“ _Should do_?” Harry repeated, sounding rather sceptical about it. “D’you mean you’ve never even used this ‘secret passage’ before?”

“‘Course not, but I trust my brothers,” Ron said, pausing. “They may’ve pranked me before, but never about something like this. They had an idea that something like this would happen – call themselves Seers they do.”

“Are they?”

“Merlin no.”

Harry was confused, annoyed, and frightened all at once. He was confused about the Twin Weasley brothers, which were already notoriously known, having pranked people mercilessly in their first year. He had been here for a month and he had already been warned to avoid them.

“Just come through here,” Neville said. “Just ignore the portrait…”

“You lot!” The portrait hissed, glaring at the four children. “This corridor is forbidden! Forbidden it is!”

Neville sighed. “Neddibrof si rodirroc siht.”

Harry gaped. “Wha –”

“Correct!” The portrait said, bowing. “I’ll grant you access just. This. Once. My memory isn’t what it used to be, so be sure to tell me if you’ve come through here before.”

“He has a three-minute memory,” Neville said after the portrait closed. “‘This corridor is forbidden’ is written backwards in his frame and that’s all he can see, so he uses it as a password.”

“Barmy.”

“He is, but he’s rather helpful,” Neville said. “At least according to Fred and George.”

“Come on then,” Ron said, gesturing towards the two Hufflepuffs. “We’ve got no time to waste.”

* * *

_Extract from Harry’s diary:_

_It’s funny, you know, I never thought that I’d ever use the diary that my mum left me when I was eleven. I sneered (at least what I thought was a sneer) at it and tossed it back into my trunk, and then forgot about it for many years._

_A wise woman once told me this: if something bothers you, then write about it. Write it down in morbid detail, and then burn it in a roaring fire. Watch it go up in smoke and become nothing._

_I dare say that my time at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was different compared to what I assumed it would be. People always say that you should start at the beginning, but I feel as if I’m dropping you off in the middle._

_Many things happened during the years that I wrote this and I hope my penmanship and vocabulary increase tenfold as I get older. (Cedric helped me right this bit!)_

_What’re all these things I’m talking about? You’ll just have to read on and figure out what I’ve experienced._

_I know, I know… I’m already making you agitated, annoyed, or confused, but I’ll start with what you’re most likely curious about—the troll incident with Neville Longbottom, Ronald Weasley, Cedric Diggory, Hermione Granger, and myself._

_I leave all the morbid details to you…_

* * *

“RUN!”

Harry jumped slightly when Hermione Granger’s voiced echoed throughout the corridor and seemed to bounce straight towards him, notifying him of all the danger that was approaching—even in the form of Hermione Granger. He was sure that the girl was bringing the troll straight to them.

“The troll! It’s coming!” Hermione panted, barely even stopping to greet her friends. “Why’re you just standing there? We need to get up the nearest flight of stairs and then we can do our plan.”

“ _Plan_!” Harry repeated, his voice slighting cracking. “You _planned_ to take on the troll?”

“Not really,” Neville admitted, looking slightly embarrassed. “I dunno what Hermione’s talking about.”

“Neville Longbottom!”

“Okay, okay… I do know what you’re talking about,” Neville paused for a moment, debating on how he’d get himself out of this issue. “We planned to make it fall down the stairs and then we’d go and get a professor. Hermione was gonna distract it for us –”

“Don’t tell them that, Neville!”

“They’re in Hufflepuff, Ron, they’d never tattle on us,” Neville muttered, sending the two boys in Hufflepuff a grin. “Loyalty and all that rot.”

“Loyalty to the professors,” Cedric whispered to Harry, concerned about where this was heading. He lifted his head and prepared to address the three first-year Gryffindors. “That’s a very offensive thing to say about us Hufflepuffs! We may not be brave like a Gryffindor and jump in front of a dragon or chase down a troll, but we can be brave and we stick together, no matter what!”

“It was an expression of speech…”

“It. Was. Offensive!” Cedric said, glaring.

“Cedric, just leave it,” Harry muttered. “They don’t know that theirs been more Hufflepuffs in the position of Minister for Magic than all the other houses. They don’t know that a lot of the ingredients for potions were founded by us Hufflepuffs… they just think what they want.”

“Whatever, let’s go,” Ron said, ignoring the heated glare from Hermione. “I can hear the troll, and its loud thumping above.”

Harry and Cedric hadn’t even had a second to protest before the three Gryffindors began sprinting off. They had no choice but to follow behind and make sure the three first-year Gryffindors didn’t do anything stupid and foolish. They followed the sounds of the thumping that was shaking the floor, causing dust to fall from above.

“I’m gonna be honest,” Harry said, eyeing the falling dust with concern. “Anything that causes _that_ isn’t worth my time to fight.”

“It’s just ‘cos the building’s old and there’s a lotta dust,” Neville said, optimistic as ever. “Also, trolls are pretty big, so it makes sense.”

“Ugh! What’s that smell?”

“That, Harry, is the troll,” Cedric said, looking rather amused about the reaction. “The more putrid the smell gets, the closer you are. We’re about the maximum distance away before the smell starts appearing, so it won’t be long until we find it as we’re obviously going towards it.”

“I didn’t want to hear _that_!” Harry said, frightened that the troll would squish them all. “What if the troll steps on us or eats us?”

Cedric laughed. “Trolls don’t eat humans, Harry, they simply kill us and then cook us for their crazy voodoo magic.”

“WHAT!”

“You’re so easy to spook, Harry,” Cedric said, holding in his laughter. “Trolls mostly avoid witches and wizards and stick together on their mountain as its ‘safe territory’. If a troll is caught outside of their area, they’ll be killed and as dumb as they are, they usually don’t anger us.”

“That’s not fair…” Harry mumbled, trailing off with the unfairness of slaughtering trolls because they left their designated area.

“It’s because they’re so big, clumsy, and destructive that they’d do more harm than good if they weren’t contained,” Cedric said, soothing the younger boy. “The few people that have the talent to understand and communicate with trolls have stated that they wish to remain away from everything.”

“What if they’re lying?” Harry said. “What if wizards just want the trolls punished?”

“This troll that has entered Hogwarts wasn’t placed here for some sort of attack, Harry, the thing is probably a child and simply wondered off,” Cedric soothed. “They act much differently compared to us. They have their own rules, guidelines, and etiquette.”

“I know…”

“Would you two quieten down?” Ron said, glaring at the two chatty Hufflepuffs. “We’re not gonna kill the thing, just knock it out a little.”

“I was just telling Harry on how trolls were so he wouldn’t be upset at the thought of killing something.”

“Who cares?”

“Harry does,” Cedric said at the same time Hermione screamed Ronald’s name. “And I do.”

Any further conversation was cut off by the sudden appearance of the troll, which had destroyed the corner of the wall that the five students were about to turn around. Pieces of stone flew all over the place and sprayed the students with small, sharp pieces. It was Cedric’s fast Seeker reflexes that shielded his and Harry’s faces from the pieces of debris.

“Merlin!” Neville groaned, wiping the dust from his face. “I didn’t expect the thing to be here!”

The troll stood around dumbly, its club dangling in the air like a hand from an old grandfather clock. It took a step, causing the stone flooring to crack under its weight.

Harry glanced towards Neville and saw the fear etched into the boy’s face. He had known both Ronald and Neville for a long time and they often did things where they would plan out ‘adventures’, as they called them, and planned to save the world. It was funny at the time, seeing Neville swing around a branch and stuff. At the current time, you could tell that they hadn’t actually planned to come across the troll and if they did, they expected it to be near a staircase.

“Don’t move!” Harry said, remembering something about trolls in his Muggle book. There had to be some truths to those Muggle books. “If it’s as stupid as you guys say it is, then it’ll think we’re nothing but wall decorations and it’ll hopefully leave us be.”

“That won’t wo –”

“Be quiet, Ron,” Neville muttered softly. “Let’s just try it. We won’t be able to outrun the thing, despite how slow it is, it’s faster than us.”

They slowly pushed themselves against the walls, hoping to fool the troll with a very simple plan, one that could backfire before you could even blink. They watched solemnly as the troll began to grunt and make its way past them, its club dragging across the stone floor.

The plan didn’t work.

The troll had gotten furious at losing the targets it was following and began swinging its club harshly, smashing into the floor and roof, spraying the stone floor upwards like a geyser just erupted in the middle of the corridor.

The only positive outcome was that the sound of crashing most likely echoed throughout the entire castle and the professors would be on their way very shortly.

The next roar caused all the students to shudder, thinking that their short lives were about to draw to a closer because of the blasted troll. Harry heard Ron mutter about doing something to stop the troll and that would allow them to escape, but Hermione was shaking her head so slightly that you had to squint to see the movement. He wondered whether this would be his last day alive and whether that he would be able to hug his mum once more.

“What’re we gonna do?” Harry asked Cedric, who had slowly moved closer. “We can’t fight that thing! It’s like fifty of us just in its leg.”

“I’m not sure, Harry,” Cedric said softly. “I’m sure the professors will come, I mean a portrait would’ve reported the troll’s location to them.”

“You think?”

“I know so, Harry,” Cedric said with a smile. “I’d never lie to you! Hufflepuff honour.”

“ _STUPEFY_!”

Harry jolted on the spot at the roar of ten witches and wizards throwing a bright scarlet spell at the troll and he pressed against the wall even harder when he saw the troll stumble towards him.

“Albus!” Professor Sprout said, worrying. “Two of my students are going to be squashed!”

“We can’t have that!” Dumbledore said, smiling, as he waved his wand in a complex pattern and the troll floated off to the side and landed rather harmlessly. “There we go, Pomona, they’re all safe.”

“Safe!” Professor McGonagall roared, looking much like the lion she was meant to be. “These children could have been killed because they ignored simple instructions!”

Harry was confused. Why was the professor shouting at the headmaster and not them, despite the fact her anger was towards them?

“Detention!” Professor McGonagall shouted, ignoring the groans. “All of you! Two weeks!”

Harry ignored the professors and focused on Cedric, who was cut up pretty badly. “Oh my God, Cedric, you’re hurt!”

“It’ll heal, just a few scratches,” Cedric said, gaping when a soft blue light surrounded him, healing the cuts on his arm. “You can do Healing Spells?”

Harry felt nervous as every eye was now on him, waiting for an explanation at his ability in Healing Magic. Seeing as he’d healed the cuts without his wand and without saying anything. “I – uh – my magic has always been strong when healing,” he muttered, trying to speak more formally than he would normally. “Sir… ma’am… professors!”

“Accidental magic?” Professor Sprout asked, walking towards her Hufflepuff. “Still at this age?”

“I just wanted Cedric healed.”

“You’re not in trouble,” Professor Sprout said, ignoring Minerva’s muttering about detention. “At least for your magic. Have you done this before, Mr. Potter?”

“Loads!” Harry said, excited. “I mean, I’ve done it lots, Professor Sprout.”

“Well,” Professor Sprout said, smiling from ear to ear. “I guess you better come with me so we can study this! You as well, Mr. Diggory.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if you guys'll like the idea of having notes from 'future Harry' in the story. I wasn't sure how to handle the time-skips and I decided that if I just have little diary notes explaining what happened, it'll save a lot of unneeded dialog. They\re important. but not important at the same time! No spoilers!
> 
> P.S: I made such a huge mistake at the start. I merged this Harry into one from another story and he become a little asshat and I didn't even mean to. Haha. *sigh*.  
> P.S.S: (is that how it works) The next chapter'll time-skip into second year.


	11. Second Year

** Spur of the Moment **

By ModernDayWeeaboo

Chapter Eleven: **Second Year**

***

_Extract from Harry’s diary:_

_The detention that I got from Professor McGonagall was the most gruelling (does that work?) whatever. It was the most painful experience I have ever had the misfortune of doing. I laughed, like every other first year, when I was told that detentions assigned by Professor McGonagall were worse than any other house because she wasn't biased and every student got a harsh punishment for misbehaving._

_Now that I’m older and wiser – at least I think I am – I have learned from the error of my ways. I’m not going to go into detail about what happened, just know that from the instant they started, I had been yanked away from Cedric and left standing in the corridor, alone, for two hours before Filch came and made me scrub the old torture room!_

_Hogwarts has a torture room!_

_I had to clean the chains from the walls where the ‘bad’ students were hung and forced to stay there for days, barely able to move._

_That wasn’t even the worst of it! Cedric dared me to get in one and the damn things clamped around my wrist and I got stuck in it. He laughed while I thrashed around, trying to escape. The headmaster came and let me out, as only the headmaster could release me, and he said that because it was so amusing, he wouldn’t take points._

_He didn’t even listen to my excuse of them attacking me…_

* * *

“Stop day dreaming, Harry, and get dressed,” Lily said, tossing a pair of trousers at her son. “We have to be at the station in thirty minutes.”

“I am dressed, mum,” Harry said, blinking. “I have been since like ten.”

“What time did you go to bed?”

Harry scratched the back of his head. “At nine, I think,” he mumbled, his right hand flicking to rub at his eyes. “I’m pretty sure it was about that.”

“Really?” Lily said, handing a cup of tea to her obviously tired son. “Funny. I swear I saw your light on at midnight.”

“I needed the loo –”

“And what are you gaining from lying?” Lily said. “You and I know that you were up much later than you should have been. I’m not angry, and I’m not upset, but I am rather annoyed that you lied to me.”

“I –”

“No excuses,” Lily said, grinning. “You clearly stayed up past your bedtime as you think you’re fully dressed and you’re standing there with toothpaste on your chin and let’s not forget that you’re standing there in your pants, which I might add you’ve had since you were eight and they shouldn’t still fit.”

“They fit fine,” Harry muttered, his cheeks flushing red. “Just a little tight. I was dressed, you had my trousers, remember? You just threw them at me.”

Lily made a humming noise and stared at her son, waiting for him to get dressed. “Put them on,” she said, amusement obvious in her voice. “We’re running out of time.”

“I – uh – can you leave?”

Lily’s smile increased tenfold. “You do know that I’ve seen it all before, Harry? Who do you think washed you before you could do it yourself? Who changed your –”

“Oh my God, mum, would you stop it?” Harry mumbled, his voice lifted in pitch as he spoke. “No one wants to hear any of that! I’m taking _my_ trousers and I’m going to get dressed in _my_ room.”

“You were fine to just stand there before and show everything,” Lily said, grinning at her son, who just huffed. “You have five minutes! And change your pants, you wore them yesterday!”

Harry ran up the stairs, his black trousers flying behind him almost comically, muttering about invasion of privacy and that his pants were clean. He toyed with the waistband and grinned, admiring the cartoonish design on them. He liked them.

* * *

“Harry!” Ernie said, wrapping said boy in a tight hug. “I wrote to you and you never replied.”

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Harry muttered as he closed the compartment door on the train. He sent Ernie and Justin a warm smile. “Mail wasn’t getting through, something that mum did with the house to hide the owls.”

“What’s she doing?”

“Experimenting, I think,” Harry said, nodding at Ernie as he jumped onto one of the seats, his head lolled against the window. “She likes to invent and play with charms. She’s always been rather gifted when dealing with them and potions, but that’s about it.”

“My mum’d have a fit if I said something like that!”

“Mum always said that you shouldn’t complain if someone spots your flaws because that means they care,” Harry said, poking his tongue out. “I don’t think she’d mind anyway.”

“Did you two do your homework?” Justin asked, breaking the silence. “I didn’t.”

“You what?”

“How was I meant to? I can’t do magic outside of school.”

“You only had to do the theory parts, Justin, not actually cast the spells!” Harry said, sighing. “You can copy mine, if you really need to.”

“I don’t need to copy your messy writing!”

“Fine!”

“I just need to do a bit of studying on the train,” Justin said, frantically digging through his trunk, almost kneeing Harry in the face. “Stop crying, I didn’t hit you.”

“You almost did!” Harry said, rubbing his nose. “It was a near miss.”

“Maybe if you helped…”

Ernie sighed and began playing with the piece of leather that held a drink tray on the seats. He wondered when Justin had become the new him and began to bicker with Harry at every opportunity. Maybe he was becoming the new Justin of the group. He shuddered at the thought. “Hey, Harry, are you gonna play Quidditch this year –”

“NO!”

“Right, scared of heights…” Ernie trailed off, talking about how safe Quidditch was. “Maybe I’ll try out for the team.”

“Do it,” Harry said, pulling his head from the window. “I think you’d be a decent Chaser, honestly. You’re too thin for a Keeper and you have no arm strength at all for a Beater.”

“Alright, Mr. I’m-so-good-at-Quidditch, I think you’re right,” Ernie said, debating his options. “Honestly, my eyesight isn’t that good and I tend to miss things, so I couldn’t be a Seeker. Chaser it is!”

“You should focus on studying and not things like a sport that teaches you nothing,” Justin muttered. “I mean, the sport is daring and unique, but unless you’re going to be a professional at it, there’s no point bothering with it.”

“That’s such a nerd thing to say,” Harry said, grinning. “That reminds me, during my holidays, one of my Muggle friends, Jackson, told me about this new boy at my old school… he said that the boy is called a nerd by everyone, even the teachers!”

“I doubt a professor would bully a student, Harry,” Ernie said. “They’d lose their job.”

“Professor Snape,” Harry replied. “He’s not that bad to us, but he’s a complete bully to the Gryffindor students and openly favours Slytherin!”

“Yeah, well –”

“Muggle professors tend to be more laidback than magical ones, Ernie, and because of this, they tend to say some offensive things, especially the younger ones.”

“Yeah. At my old school, there was this teacher there that was about twenty and he was really inappropriate at times. He swore rather frequently.”

“What did he say?” Ernie asked, leaning forwards.

“I’m not repeating it,” Harry said, not wanting to swear. “And you shouldn’t either! Mum says that swearing is bad!”

“Was it fuck?”

“ERNIE!”

Harry was surprised at Justin, who hadn’t really ever yelled before. His surprise just increased when Justin started to giggle, as if what was said was the funniest thing he had ever heard. He had to admit that everyone over the age slipped away to swear to their friends, trying to impress them with their knowledge of many offensive words. Most of the time, it was the same words just repeated. Jackson had a fondness for the word ‘bitch’ and used it whenever the chance came up. Except if his parents were around. He would use something else that was deemed suitable for a child to use.

“Loosen up, Justin,” Ernie said, giggling over his words. “It’s just a word, y’know.”

“It’s a v-vulgar word,” Justin said, attempting to look unimpressed. “You can use so much better words and not look like you were just dragged in by some jobless homeless people…”

“Not all of us grew up in a palace, Justin,” Harry said. “Aren’t you related to the Queen?”

“No.”

“You act like it, you’re such a prude.”

“Rather be a prude than a little boy that swears at everything that moves,” Justin said, lifting his nose. “At least what my parents taught me stuck and I didn’t fall into the pit that you two have.”

The train ride continued in the same manner, with Justin and Ernie arguing over swearing and Harry just shaking his head confused. That lasted until the trolley lady came and offered them to buy some sweets, which she thought all of them could use. Harry got the most sweets, wanting to do something other than sit around and wait.

“If you keep eating chocolate, Harry, you’ll get fat.”

Harry scowled at Justin and placed the chocolate frog in his mouth.

* * *

“Where the hell is the headmaster?”

Harry turned around to roll his eyes at Ernie. “Busy, most likely,” he said, ignoring the absence of many professors and faculty members. “Maybe something happened.”

“Maybe.”

“ATTENTION!” Professor McGonagall shouted. She remained silent until the entire Great Hall quietened, even the newly sorted students. “There has been an incident that happened just outside of the grounds. You may be aware that the headmaster and almost half the professors aren’t here. The incident was rather tragic and it’s rather painful for me to say…”

Harry listened, distraught, as Professor McGonagall continued to explain the saddening news that had happened. He worried for Neville, who came out fine, but Ronald Weasley was really injured. He listened as Professor McGonagall explained that Gryffindor would lose two hundred points and that the two students were going to be debated about a suspension or an expulsion. Apparently, the entrance to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters had been blocked from both sides. It took the Ministry of Magic close to two hours to pull down the spell that locked them all in there.

“We’re still in the dark about what spell had been used to block the barrier, but we have a thought that another spell was woven into it that disallowed tampering, hence why it took so long,” Professor McGonagall continued. “Two students had been locked on the other side and weren’t sure on how they should act. Despite the numerous employees by the Ministry of Magic, they went unhelped in their distress. They had the very unwise idea to go and steal a magical car and use that to attend Hogwarts –”

“Gryffindors…”

“ENOUGH!” Professor McGonagall snapped, glaring at the Ravenclaw. “We shouldn’t fault the two boys for their action, as I’m sure many of you would act the same if you thought that you would miss school. The Gryffindor students would most likely do something rash, as we’re prided for; the Ravenclaw students would try and think of a way to bypass the charm on the barrier, still missing the train; the Hufflepuff students would have found a way to get by the barrier; and the Slytherin students? Well, I’m sure you would have bribed your way onto the train.”

The Great Hall filled with laughter at each example of the houses. Of course, the Slytherin students looked put out by the lack of ambitious approach, but that was about it.

“What happened to the two students?”

Professor McGonagall sent an approving look towards the sixth-year Gryffindor. “As I stated before, the two students, who are second-year Gryffindors, are in a lot of trouble. The flew the flying car onto Hogwarts grounds and the wards that surround the school saw the vehicle as a threat and destroyed it, sending it towards the best natural defence the school has. I’m sure many of you know that I’m talking about the Whomping Willow.”

A collective gasp happened around the room.

Harry was white faced as he learned that both Neville and Ron were in a self-induced coma because of the injuries they sustained. Ron had been thrown from the vehicle on impact, causing a vast amount of damage that he may never recover from. Poor Neville had it the worst, and no details were told besides the fact that the poor boy was almost split into two.

“Jesus,” Justin muttered as they were allowed to leave the Great Hall. “I’m speechless.”

“I hope Nev is alright,” Harry muttered. “I’ve known him for years, same with Ron.”

“You don’t act like friends…”

“We’re not, not really,” Harry said. “We know each other and we occasionally played together, but Neville and Ron were always inseparable and I was just there.”

It really wasn’t a happy tale for him. He liked both Ron and Neville, he enjoyed their company, but there was never room for him. They spoke about magical things, things that he would never understand because he was raised in the Muggle way, with titbits of magic thrown in. He was glad that Neville found a good friend like he had found Jackson, but that was about it.

“Well, I hope they’ll pull through,” Justin said, breaking the silence. “A self-induced coma is better than a forced one. They’ll be able to wake up when their mind tells them it’s safe.”

“And you know this how?”

“My mother did nursing courses in school,” Justin replied. “Not to mention that my father did the same, especially when my mother was pregnant.”

Harry rolled his eyes and nudged Justin as they walked into the Hufflepuff common room. “You’re an idiot, Justin.”

“Must be a serious injury if magic can’t fix it,” Ernie said. “I want to know and I don’t at the same time.”

Harry hummed, trying not to think of Neville and Ron being injured.

* * *

“Harry!” Cedric said, panting. “Finally caught you. Are you alright?”

Harry blinked. “W-what?” he stuttered out. “Of course, I’m fine.”

“I’m not stupid, Harry, ever since the accident at the start of the year, you’ve been distant with everyone and you’re obviously grieving, just in your own way.”

“You say that as if it was me that was injured.”

“You’re a good person, Harry, and I have a feeling that you’d a lot of those that don’t deserve it. When you see someone bullied, your eye twitches. When you see someone hurt, you practically leap forwards, as if diving to help them. And finally, you get this sad look when someone has been hurt and you cannot help them.”

“Gee, thanks…”

“I didn’t mean it as an insult, Harry, I meant it as a good thing,” Cedric said, trying to soothe the boy. “Look at Malfoy, Harry, he treats everyone badly and doesn’t feel bad for doing it. I don’t mean Gryffindors either, he treats us badly, he treats Ravenclaws bad, and worst of all, he treats his own house bad.”

“You cannot blame a child for imitating their parents,” Harry said, sighing. “Mum told me a little about Malfoy’s dad, the man started a fight in Diagon Alley a few weeks ago…”

“Go and ask Madam Pomfrey if you can see Neville,” Cedric said. “Just ask.”

Harry turned to ask what Cedric meant and the fourth-year boy was already gone. “Typical,” he murmured to himself, his feet carrying him towards the hospital wing, as if on autopilot. “Madam Pomfrey!”

“Yes, dear? You’re not hurt are you?”

“No,” Harry said, biting his lip. He hadn’t meant to call out to Madam Pomfrey, he was just surprised to see her in the middle of the hospital wing. “I – uh –”

“Don’t bite your lip, Mr. Potter, you’ll do damage and then you’ll have what I like to call a bloody smile.”

Harry laughed. “I just wanted to come and see if Neville was alright…” he trailed off, rambling about Neville. “It’s been awhile and everything has been so quiet.”

Madam Pomfrey gestured the boy. “Only if you tell me how to knit a would together painlessly,” she watched, amused, as the boy’s face when from slightly grim to shining, as if he’d just aced all his N.E.W.T.s on the first go.

“You need to move your wand as if you’re stitching the wounds, not just jabbing it!” Harry said, excited. Healing was the only subject that he dove into without complaint. “If you jab, it could stitch the wrong way and it’ll hurt the patient.”

“Excellent, Mr. Potter, we’ll make an apprentice out of you yet,” Madam Pomfrey said. “Mr. Longbottom’s condition is much worse than that of Mr. Weasley’s. I will not blame you if you get sick or wish to leave, just say so.”

Harry was dressed in what appeared to be a bright blue outfit with a facemask. He would have laughed if not for the serious situation that was about to be sprung on him. He had butterflies and he felt rather nauseous already and he hadn’t seen Neville yet. He walked behind Madam Pomfrey, hoping what he saw wasn’t going to make him vomit all over the floor.

* * *

“Well done, Harry,” Madam Pomfrey praised. “As for you, Mr. Thompson, you would do well to not use unknown substances as a lubricant.”

The boy scuttled out of the hospital wing as quick as he could, red-faced.

Harry, not understand, just laughed. “I wonder why he used a potion to try and clean his hands…”

Madam Pomfrey, not wanting to ruin the boy’s innocence, just agreed. “Some people just have urges and reach for the closest thing. Mr. Thompson has been in here more than once for the same thing, he doesn’t think before he acts. He learns far too late what he’s done.”

“Right.”

Madam Pomfrey gestured Harry towards the next patient, who was looking even worse than she should be, seeing as the year had only just started. She had to admit that the students were taking the fact that a twelve-year-old boy was aiding them to get better. She was above petty house rivalries, but she was sure they relaxed because he was in the ‘useless house’ and posed no threat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder if any of you noticed the summary and tag change. Gone are all the mindless sex tags... well, they're still there, just a little better described. You see, when I originally started this, I was going to start it in year five. I sat down and was like, "Damn, people are gonna have to read a lot of things before they get to the sex." I also wanted Harry and co. to have a backstory. I needed to flesh out why Harry was so nice and caring.
> 
> I also changed up the relationships and cut out a lot of unneeded characters.
> 
> This chapter is short, and I apologize, but it's such a major chapter that I couldn't add anymore.


End file.
